Every Time The Sun Comes Up, I'm In Trouble
by thetruechimchim
Summary: Klaus calls for Camille to help with Elijah's psychological troubles. Camille realizes several things during her stay. A Klamille fic. Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Forgiveness**

It wasn't every night that Camille O'Connell dreamt of beating a horde of supernaturals effortlessly. Usually her dreams were running away from various people, falling into endless pits, or just living a completely normal life somewhere in the suburbs with a husband and kid. Not this night though.

This night, she was doing highly complicated kicks and punches in her dream, knocking down her pursuers one after another. Her body moved like a well-oiled machine, her fists were flying like hard weapons, she even demonstrated a world-class judo move on one particularly lecherous-looking werewolf. He writhed painfully on the ground and she resisted the urge to give out a maniacal laugh as she heard all her enemies begging for mercy.

So this was how Klaus and Elijah felt when they were beating up the bad guys. This… was… completely… glorious!

"Camille," came the familiar voice behind her. She turned so quickly she nearly gave herself a headache.

"Klaus?" What was he doing here in her dream?

He had an ominous look about him, his face and shirt covered in blood stains.

He started moving menacingly towards her. "You need to forget this, Camille."

"What? Forget what?"

"Forget everything." He was a foot away and clamped her shoulders with both hands, his face starting to lean so close to hers, she knew what he was about to do.

"NO!" She had no clue what he wanted her to forget but she sure was not going to be compelled without a fight.

She reeled back and attempted to punch Klaus hard in the face.

She didn't know whether her punch landed or not but suddenly, the hard grip on her shoulders were gone. She felt, rather than saw him put his hands on her arms and rub up and down.

The Klaus in her dream pulled her closer to his chest, effectively leeching off the fight in her. She started to relax and let him just hold her. Instead of being oppressive as she'd expected, she felt comforted. She felt pleasant. And she knew somehow that he wasn't going to compel her again.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, there were tiny things she was slowly becoming aware of that indicated she was no longer dreaming.

The sensation of having her arms held and gently rubbed were getting to be all too real.

Those were real hands touching her.

A real voice murmuring her name.

She blinked her eyes open and jolted awake to the actual Klaus holding onto her and rubbing her upper arms and shoulders in an oddly comforting manner.

_Oh God._

As soon as he was aware that she was conscious and about to open her mouth, he put one hand up and calmly spoke, "Before you scream bloody murder, will you please hear what I have to say first?"

She clamped her mouth shut to physically stop herself from screaming, her heart beating too fast trying to cope with the reality that Klaus Mikaelson was inside her apartment holding her while she was sleeping just a couple of seconds ago.

"I truly regret to wake you up this way, Camille, I realize that this is not quite the ideal situation we are in. I have attempted reaching you on your phone, but I got no answer. I have stood outside your apartment calling your name, I don't think you heard me at all, you were already deeply asleep."

His blue eyes were sincere as he continued, one hand resting warmly on her shoulder. "I would not even deign to intrude in your private chambers without permission, had it not be an urgent matter I need your help with."

She swallowed hard, trying to calm her nerves from the manner she was just woken up. "What is it?"

"It's Elijah. He is in the compound now, unwell. He has asked to see you."

...

The fastest way to travel short distances for vampires, or in her case, Originals, was to use their super speed. Klaus explained he had vamped over to her place to save time, and that the most practical way to get to Elijah in the compound was to do the same thing.

"Let me just grab a couple of things and I can go."

He briefly glanced down at her tank top and pajamas and had the dignity to look a little embarrassed for her. "Of course."

She knew the seriousness of the situation and only had time to put on a hoodie and slip ons, tie her hair, brush her teeth and wash her face in less than five minutes. She knew she looked like crap, but after finding out Klaus already saw her sleeping/ drooling/ Godknowswhatelse, it couldn't get any worse than that, so there was no point caring.

She came out of her bathroom and he looked at her questioningly. _Ready?_

She nodded, moving closer to him. He looked at her and saw briefly saw an expression she couldn't quite comprehend. She didn't have time to dwell on it because he swept her off her feet. Quite literally.

Being carried by a running hybrid in super speed almost felt like the downhill run in a scary rollercoaster, except it was going horizontal rather than vertical, it was harder to breathe, and rollercoasters didn't make you feel like your skin was about to get peeled off your face.

Much sooner than she anticipated, they'd arrived at the compound and Klaus stopped and put her feet on the ground as gently on the ground and didn't let go of her hand.

"It's okay, I'm perfectly..."

She felt the earth move and it made her drop to her knees, trying not to blow chunks right there and then. She felt him rub her back as she tried to fight the nausea.

"It will pass in a minute, love."

It took her some time to answer. "We are… taking… a car… next time."

...

Elijah was much worse than she'd imagined. He had dark circles under his eyes and was sitting in the dark, staring outside the window. Klaus was standing directly in front of her as they both walked towards him, she knew, to protect her in case anything happened.

"The lovely Camille. I was wondering when I would see you," Elijah said.

"Elijah. Have you been keeping yourself busy?"

"As you can see my brother has me under lock and key lately I haven't really had the time to make much use of myself. What about you? I see you've pulled out all the stops to impress me with your… manner of dress."

"I didn't want to get too fancy tonight, you might resent me for being prettier than you."

He smiled at that and continued staring out the window. "I thought we were going fishing and you were going to tell me about that summer."

"Oh stop pretending you're interested in that. Pretty sure you have more things you would rather tell me."

Klaus give her a sideways glance. "I will leave you alone then."

Earlier he had told her he will give them privacy for their conversation, but should anything remotely dangerous occur, she should scream as loud as she could.

She nodded to tell him she was fine.

After he exited the room, she sat across Elijah and waited for him to speak. When he didn't start, she randomly told him, "I nearly vomited on your doorstep tonight."

He raised his eyebrows. "Was it because you were too long in my brother's company? Forgive him, he naturally has that effect on people."

That made her laugh so hard that even Elijah had a reluctant smile at how much she was enjoying that little joke on his brother's expense. "That super speed thing is definitely not my preferred method of traveling."

"I'll let him know when I ask to see you next time that it's not that urgent so you won't have to be subjected to it again."

She looked at him closely. "Was it not urgent?"

She let him mull on that for a bit. She knew getting answers out of Elijah took some time.

As they sat in comfortable silence, she wondered what god she pissed off that she would be playing psychiatrist to an original vampire at 3 am in the morning.

An on-call shrink to vampires. She should be getting paid at least five hundred an hour for this, she thought to herself. Plus life insurance of at least five million, and extra ten million if she gets beheaded.

Not that beheading was really a laughing matter since she'd heard the stories of Elijah making heads roll literally as a hobby. The chances of that happening with were very likely if Elijah somehow lost control. She would probably demand some compensation if she had someone to leave it to, but really, she had no one. She didn't really care about the money. So here she was, trying to fix others' problems. It gave her something to do at least.

And at least she saw Elijah as a friend she genuinely wanted to help, even if to him she was probably just someone to pass the time.

Before she could ponder on how pathetic her life was seeming, he spoke, carefully choosing his words. "It's about the red door again."

"Tell me more about it."

"I have not had a night of sleep in weeks. I keep dreaming about it, about Tatia. I wake up sweating, shaking and I am… I am fearful I will hurt people close to me again. This is why I could never tell her. This is why I could never let her in my life, I didn't want..." he hesitated. "I didn't want to hurt her."

Although he didn't name the _her _he didn't want to let into his life, Camille knew who exactly was being referred to.

"I've scoffed at your methods before, but as much as it pains me to admit it, I need some assistance. Perhaps your human ways could work out, I am willing to try it now. " He exhaled. "As you can guess, I am quite in despair. My brother probably thinks I am losing my mind, I have not been myself."

As she listened to him unload a little bit of the centuries of his baggage, she found herself grateful for her short human existence, for some semblance of normalcy relative to his. She found herself wanting to reach out and ease his burden.

It wasn't going to be easy. He needed someone to talk to. His family… Klaus… was at times, even more broken than he was.

How could he be saved?

...

She stepped outside and quietly closed the door to Elijah's room. He had finally closed his eyes to rest after an hour of conversing with her. She quite hoped that his sleep would be much longer but she had a feeling he would be waking up less than well rested. It was doubtful regular medication worked on Originals. As of now she had nothing to prescribe but mere listening skills and conversation.

She didn't know why and how Elijah had come to trust her with his most innermost troubles, but he did, and somehow that made her feel really a bit better about the path she'd chosen for herself. Right now, she really didn't have much to live for herself and to second-guess whether she was doing the right thing was a little depressing.

"Cami?"

Klaus had apparently waited outside the whole time, ready to barge in, in case Elijah ripped her throat open.

She gave him a wan smile. "He's resting now."

He nodded. "I am in your debt."

"It's nothing. He's actually…" she grasped for the words to explain how she felt about helping Elijah. "I've come to look at him as a friend."

A strange expression passed his face. "I've gathered that from the way you two have conversed. I am glad your time alone before had done some…. good… for your relationship."

"Me too."

He walked her over to the living room to get her a drink. "I want him to get better. I need him by my side."

"I understand. It will just take some time. It will be beneficial for him to be surrounded by good things. Things that will not stress him out. He needs someone to talk to. Elijah has always had… such control over his feelings, his emotions, his desires. You can tell in a way it's all taking its toll after years."

HIs smile was a little pained. "I find it hard to communicate about such things with my brother."

"I know." She yawned suddenly, feeling the effects of not having enough sleep and the daunting task of carrying Elijah's burdens.

"Would you mind terribly coming here every now and then to see him?"

"I told you I wouldn't. He's a friend."

That statement somehow made him pause and stare at her. For a moment he looked like he was about to say something and then finally decided against it. "Anyway, now that my dear brother is feeling a bit better and your duties are done with for the night, may I just tell you a little thing?"

"Yes?" she asked, suspicious at that momentary glint of mischief she saw in his eye..

"Did you know that you attempted to punch me this morning when I woke you up?"

She gaped at him. "I did not."

"You really did. You started thrashing about and punched me when I was trying to wake you up. Not a morning person at all, are you."

"Huh." She plopped down on one of their settees. "Did it at least land?"

"You're joking right?" He chuckled evilly and stopped midway when he saw her face. "Sorry, love, but you and I both know I am too fast for your punches. While I am sure they are mighty and all, I am after all, an Original hybrid. Plus you were dreaming, making it fifty percent less effective."

"Yes I was." She yawned. "My dream was nice at first. Then it turned into a nightmare type."

"Was I in it?"

"I believe I said it turned into a nightmare, so of course you were in it."

He gave her a slight scowl and sat next to her on the settee. "Nice pajamas, by the way."

She looked down at her Pikachu-printed pajamas and gave him a sleepy smile. _Trust him to notice. _"Sean gave them to me as a prank. Everytime I wear them, I remember how he was. The real him, I mean."

He was silent for a long time before speaking and she took the time to rest her head against the backrest of the settee.

"Camille…?"

Her eyes started to close. Listening to some of Elijah's darkest moments had sapped out all her energy. She needed her bed. Some beer? Coffee. Burger. Fries. Sleep. Her thoughts started drifting to the warm and cozy bed waiting for her back home, and her eyelids suddenly felt so heavy. She was getting too comfortable sitting here.

"Cami…?"

"Mmm?"

"I don't think I have ever... apologized... for things that have occurred between us before."

Her eyes snapped open and there was a pause as she considered what to tell him.

"Klaus, you must know I've already forgiven you a long time ago."

She felt his back stiffen. "Be that as it may, I regret that I have caused you pain."

She struggled to keep her eyes open, and wished that she was feeling more awake to know exactly what to say. To hear him actually express regret about the past made her feel so many things. Relief. Joy. Gratitude. Some sort of heavy weight of resentment against him, something that she didn't even know she'd been carrying, was finally lifting.

Maybe, the next time she dreamt of him, it wouldn't be him trying to wipe away her memories.

_I regret that I have caused you pain._

He sounded so agonized relative to how he normally was, that she did the only thing she could think of doing to tell him it was okay.

She reached over and exhaustedly placed her hand on top of his.

For a moment, it seemed like Klaus was rendered motionless by her actions. She saw him glance at their hands with a start, and turn to look at her. His eyes betrayed varying degrees of surprise and confusion, as if he was expecting his whole apology to be thrown back at his face. There was something else in them, but she couldn't dwell on what it was, not now when she was struggling to keep herself conscious.

She gave his hand a comforting squeeze, quietly saying "Thank you, Klaus," before resting her head against his shoulder and falling dead asleep.

...

She woke up for a second time that day feeling more out of sorts,if that was even possible. She had the kind of headache that you get when you didn't get enough sleep. Upon waking up she realized two things immediately.

One, she was not in her own bed.

Two, someone had taken her shoes and hoodie off and tucked her in properly in a very big, warm and comfortable bed. One she currently didn't want to leave, but had to because she didn't know where she was…

Oh wait, now she did know where she was.

Klaus' bedroom. The easel, a half finished painting, and scattered paintbrushes on the side gave it away.

Now she was all too aware of whose sheets it was that were wrapped all over her, whose pillow that was she was laying on moments ago. Whose smell that was, pervading the air.

She felt her face grew warm and hurriedly looked around that no one else was in the room with her. Not a soul was in the area. Knowing that she was by herself, she took more time to look around.

Then she remembered that the last time she was here, Genevieve was also here in... just her undergarments. Great.

With that sobering thought, she hurriedly jumped out of the bed and tried to look for her shoes, shuddering at the thought of the various naked women that have been on that bed. Nothing like a bad memory to ruin the moment.

She finally found her things carefully laid out on a chair, and crossed her way to the living room to be well on her way out. She hoped she could make a quick get away without having to deal with anybody seeing her leave.

Wait a minute, why does this somehow feel like a walk of shame, she thought as she crossed the living room. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of room's doors wide open. Hayley's room. She knew Hayley's room connected to Hope's nursery and if she could just see Hope for a quick moment, well that would more than just make her day.

Without a second thought, she walked towards it and tentatively entered. "Hello?"

Nobody there. She slowly walked towards the nursery and found Hope in her crib.

The sweet baby was fast asleep, one precious little fist tucked under her chin. She grinned. That was her favorite sleeping position. She really missed this child. At that safehouse, she had enjoyed every moment she had taking care of Hope. The baby made her laugh, made her felt needed, made her feel so much love and belongingness. Something she hadn't felt in such a long time ever since Sean and Kieran's deaths.

She stroked Hope's cheek tenderly, careful not to wake her up, softly whispering that Aunt Cami missed her so much.

After drinking in her fill of the beautiful baby, she gave her a goodbye kiss, happy that she was able to see Hope after a long time.

She turned and saw Klaus quietly standing in the doorway.

She jumped, her hand clutching her chest from the shock. "God!"

"Yes, good morning to you too."

She whispered, anxious not to wake up the baby. "You scared me to death, I thought you were… someone else."

"Like who, might I ask?"

"I don't know. This is a house full of vampires, you don't think that will make anyone a little bit jumpy?"

He looked thoroughly insulted. She could tell he was getting himself ready to deliver one of his infamous monologues, and braced herself for it. Klaus was particularly fond of dramatics during times he felt offended, no matter what level of offense it was.

"Let me make one thing clear, Camille…"

_Here we go._

"You are under my roof. MY roof. You of all people should know I will never allow anything untoward happen to you. If only you knew the steps I follow to take precaution. Why I…" he paused. "Do you… do you find this amusing?"

_Yes._

"No."

"Are you laughing at me right now?" he demanded.

_Yes._

"No, why would I laugh at you? My safety is not a laughing matter."

"Damn right." he said, looking at her sideways, still suspicious. She had a sinking feeling that he could see exactly through her duplicity but he decided not to say anything.

They continued their conversation outside. "By the way, how did you know I was still here? I could have walked out the door anytime if I didn't get sidetracked."

"We hybrids don't need to see you to know where you are. We just know by your scent where exactly you are," he stated casually, like he just commented on the weather outside.

"My scent! What scent?" She gave him a troubled look.

He said nothing but he was clearly trying not to smile at her obvious panic at the thought of him sniffing around for her like a dog.

"Is it a bad scent? Oh my god, this is so horrifying, I haven't even had a shower yet." She made a face. She was disturbed but at the same time equally curious about his hybrid senses. She rambled on, "But seriously I wonder what it's like, if I can smell everything times a hundred. It must be horrible. Imagine the smell of garbage, or a loaded diaper-"

"Please, don't let me stop you. By all means, indulge yourself. This is all quite fascinating to hear."

She folded her arms. "Well, Klaus, we don't need extra sensitive noses to find you. We all know to just follow the trail of fire and brimstone."

He shook his finger at her with amusement, "And I'd bet... you've just been dying to use that for a long time, Camille."

"That's me, always waiting for that golden opportunity to call you the devil."

She could tell he enjoyed that bit but was pretending not to do so by momentarily frowning at her. "We have some pastries and coffee downstairs if you feel like having something to eat. I am aware we have quite imposed on you last night…"

That suddenly reminded her of everything that happened last night. From his apology to her just falling asleep afterwards. _What a mess._

"Actually I should apologize for just dozing off on you like that. I didn't mean to stay in. Thank you, by the way, for putting me on the bed. I was hoping I didn't kick anyone out of their own room, but…"

"Lucky for me, I don't need much sleep."

She breathed in relief. "Good. As for breakfast... sorry, but I really do need to get going. I just wanted to see Hope before I left."

He paused, and then nodded. "I'll drive you home."

"I can walk, it's fine."

"In those pajamas, I suppose?"

She blinked, forgetting she was in sleepwear. "You're right. Why are you sometimes right?"

"ALWAYS right. I am always right. Try to remember that from time to time. And consider me driving you as gratitude for psychiatric services for Elijah."

"You know, normally people would just pay. Like a million dollars. It's not like you're poor, Klaus, you're in Gucci all the time or some other thing like that."

"But you'd miss out on my excellent chauffeur services."

They stared at each other for a beat, and as she noticed that boyish grin on his face, she suddenly came to the realization that she honestly, genuinely just enjoyed bickering with this man.

He must have seen something change in her eyes, because he stopped smiling and those startlingly blue eyes searching hers turned dark.

Her own grin faltered, and Cami suddenly forgot to breathe.

When he looked at her like that, she forgot every daunting quality about him as a supernatural.

Forgot the violence, the selfishness, the arrogance.

Forgot that he was a thousand years old and she hadn't even made it to three decades.

Forgot that it could never in a million years happen for so many wrong reasons.

All she saw was this gorgeous man looking at her with those deep blue eyes. And there she was, just standing and drowning in them.

"Oranges and vanilla," he quietly said.

"What?"

"That's what you smell like."

And just like that, he'd rendered her speechless the rest of the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Jealousy**

She was up at 6 am again, having trouble sleeping for a week now. Thinking about things she had no business thinking about. During the first nights, she was hesitant to fall asleep for the anxiety of getting another late night surprise visit from Klaus. Seeing him in the light of day when she was ready for it was more than enough to unsettle her, seeing him in her bedroom in the middle of the night was altogether a different thing. She knew the role she played in their lives was totally minimal, but would it kill him to maybe remember that she was still a warm-blooded female?

The next nights she kept dreaming about her uncle, Kieran. He was trying to tell her something in her dream, pointing at something beside her. When she looked, she couldn't see anything. The same dream three nights in a row. She didn't really believe in ghosts, but then, she didn't used to believe in vampires or werewolves before either. She wasn't just about ready to discount that quite possibly Kieran's spirit was actually trying to communicate with her.

She shuddered at the thought of having ghosts visit her now at night.

After some needed caffeine boost, she went to her uncle's apartment. Ever since the first night she dreamt of him, she had been poring over his inventory of dark objects, focusing on weapons she could use to defend herself in the event that she needed to preserve her life, which seemed to be happening more often. Kieran had meticulously listed out the descriptions of each of the items. It still hurt her to think about her uncle, especially during his last moments, but in her heart, she somehow knew, that he was at peace.

The sight that greeted her as soon as she entered the barren apartment was a bit chaotic. A beat up thick wooden plyboard had taken up residence near the window. Papers were scattered all over the tables. Ice packs and pain relievers were strewn all over the floor. She knew she needed to clean up but so many things had taken over her time.

She needed to do so many things today. She needed to get some groceries. She needed to finish reading on at least two chapters from her book for school, she needed to go to work this afternoon at the bar. Most of all she needed to get more practice in.

By practice, she meant practicing on some of the weapons at her disposal. She could not forever rely on Klaus, Marcel, Elijah, Hayley and even Davina to keep saving her. They usually had impeccable timing, but that wouldn't always be the case. At the end of the day, she needed to learn things to better protect herself and look out for herself.

A couple of years ago, if somebody mentioned self-defense, she would have thought, "pepper spray? Stun gun? Automatic weapon? Call the cops?" However, these were supernaturals she was dealing with now. Normal self defense routes do not apply. She could just imagine their faces when she whipped out her pepper spray from her bag and threatened them with it. Maybe then she'd kill them with laughter.

Marcel had taken one of the ninja stars, but there were four of those left in her uncle's inventory. Each of the ninja stars, when buried into the enemy's body, would make a thousand cuts and result in death. She was careful to handle these with gloves, she didn't want to risk cutting herself in one of those blades. She wasn't planning to touch them until she knew she could handle the weapons with confidence.

She took the chance and ordered ninja stars on Amazon for practice, looked up Youtube videos on how to throw them, and she'd been practicing in secret, throwing them on that wooden board in varying distances.

After a couple of days, she managed to make them stick on pretty much the same spot from ten feet out. Her right arm hurt like hell from all the exertion, but she felt like at the event of someone coming after her, she could throw something with much force and better accuracy than a week ago.

She threw one of the practice stars now on the board. It stuck somewhere in the middle. She smiled.

_God bless the internet._

"Nicely done," came the female voice behind her. She turned around and saw Hayley standing at her uncle's apartment's doorway.

"I went to your apartment earlier. I thought I'd find you here," the hybrid said, reaching in for a hug.

It felt good seeing Hayley after such a long time. She jumped from staying at the compound to be with Hope, to spending nights at the bayou to be with her pack, and Cami hadn't seen her since the wedding.

They chatted about Hayley's new life as leader of the pack, Cami's newfound passion for self-defense, Hope, Klaus, Rebekah, Marcel, Davina, Josh… There was a silence as Cami realized she'd asked about everybody but the one person Hayley probably wanted to know most about.

Cami eyed her carefully, saying, "He's going to be okay, you know."

"Who?"

"You know."

Hayley's sad smile spoke volumes.

…

Elijah badly needed a shower and a shave. He realized this was most unlike him, wallowing inside the room, plagued with horrors of the past, thoughts of the present, and an indifference of the future. He could not sleep but at the same time, neither did he want to get out of bed and do anything. He was stuck here in this hole in his mind. The hole was not disappearing, it was becoming bigger and bigger, threatening to engulf him and eat him alive.

As he stepped into the shower, he turned it on to the hottest setting he could, scrubbing his body raw as if to cleanse himself. As if doing so would make him be a whole new person again. He wanted to step out of skin. Wanted to live any life but his own. Wanted to be anyone but Elijah Mikaelson, with all the victims he'd claimed, all the people he'd hurt, all the loves he'd lost.

He was a thousand years old, but he could not see any point to continuing on. And ironically, he could not die. Not unless his brother took pity on him and stabbed him with the white oak stake. Or perhaps Niklaus could dagger him for just a bit of time, until things settled down for a bit. He doubted it would get better. Besides he had a duty to ensure everybody else's safety from Niklaus himself. But truth be told, he was just tired of it all.

He heard his phone ringing and he frowned, stepping out of the shower.

Camille O'Connell calling, said the screen.

With a sigh, he raised the phone to his ear.

"Yes?"

"I haven't heard from you in a week, are you okay?"

He briefly considered telling the truth but decided against it. "I am perfect, thank you for calling, Camille."

There was a long pause before she spoke. "If you ever decide to get some fresh air today, I'm on my way to check out the farmer's market. The weather is pretty nice this morning."

"Forgive me, but I have more pressing matters to attend to as of the moment."

_Such as? _a voice in his head called out.

He could sense from her deliberate pause that Camille thought his reply was utter nonsense as well, as if she just knew that all he did for the past week was sit around and stare at the wall.

"I guess you and Klaus have been doing a little brotherly bonding. That's good then. Maybe I should give him a call and ask him to help me out with…"

"I'll be there." He knew perfectly well that Niklaus was going to tell her he'd never left his room in the week, specifically when she'd told him to keep himself busy. Camille was nothing but persistent and he knew if she found out the depths he'd allow himself to sink into, well she'd do nothing short of camping outside his door telling him to fix things to keep himself busy. He inwardly shuddered at the thought.

…

Elijah found her milling about in the produce section, already carrying a bag filled with what looked to be baguettes. The throng of people suddenly made him long for the quiet of his own space in the compound. There were too many conversations, too many smells, too much noise going on. A heavyset middle aged woman carelessly bumped into him.

"Watch it," she snarled. The thought of baring his fangs and ripping out that jugular from her thick neck came unbidden into his mind.

Camille rushed to his side, correctly interpreting the predatory look he'd shot the woman, "You alright?"

He exhaled sharply. "This is why I would much rather stand in the sidelines than be in the middle of things. It's… less of a mess."

"Well, sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you need to live a little."

"Live a little?" he scoffed. "I am a thousand years old…"

"Obviously, Elijah, I didn't mean that literally. Come on, I've been dying to sample those dark chocolate truffles they have in there."

_She brought him here to sample food?_

"How riveting," he couldn't help but drawl out.

She shot him a look and handed him her brown paper bag already filled with food. "Just carry this and don't even think about running away. You're here to be the muscle and not the brains, so try not to overthink things."

He gave her his most condescending stare but followed her around to the chocolates. What else was there to do after all?

...

Surprisingly he found himself distracted by everything going on at the marketplace. An old lady yelled at him for loitering near her stand, blocking everything else. He'd scared a little boy who was rudely staring at him by briefly showing off his fangs. The poor sucker ran screaming for his mother which amused him quite so. And despite strolling with Camille, a beautiful brunette in a green dress gave him the up-and-down and smiled broadly at him, pressing a piece of paper with her number on his hand.

Aside from that, he'd also kept himself pre-occupied by taking out undesirable things from Camille's basket to go back into the shopkeeper's carts, all without her knowing. Personally, he thought he was doing her a favor.

Like this. Green peppers? Disgusting. He couldn't stand green peppers. He couldn't see why any sane person would want to eat them. He put them back on the crates when she wasn't looking.

Cheddar cheese? Utterly pedestrian. He traded the cheese for feta, which in his humble opinion was a much better choice than hers. She could thank him later.

Zucchinis? They simply looked too phallic for a young single woman to be buying, what a disgrace. He put them back in the shopkeeper's cart.

More chocolates? He started grabbing on to the new addition to the basket when she turned around so fast, she nearly took his eye out with her ponytail.

"Seriously Elijah? I can forgive the cheese and veggies, but not the chocolates. Drop those homemade peanutbutter cups and nobody has to get hurt."

He dropped them back in, not at all embarrassed to be caught messing with her groceries. She deserved it for practically forcing him to be here. He knew what she was attempting to do, but he wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards her at this point.

"Is this the part where you educate me on what the whole lesson of the day is, Camille? That life is too beautiful and too precious to just be spent wasting away? That this is what I am missing, all this time, mundane activities like grocery shopping and chocolate-tasting, when all I can think of is how these people look like with blood spilling out of their bodies?"

He could tell he shocked her by the way her eyes widened. She always did have expressive eyes, too expressive. One could always tell what she was thinking even without her saying so.

Despite that, she crossed her arms and faced him off.

"Do you remember what you told me last week, Elijah? Do you remember asking me for my help? And telling me that maybe my "human ways" could work out for you somehow? This isn't me trying to be your therapist, to get into your head, psychoanalyze you, work things out. This is me trying to be a friend and get you out of that house to do something "mundane," as you call it. This is me trying to reach out and let you know that there are people who want you to get better and move on. That you don't have to carry this burden alone. That's part of what you call "my human way".

He stared at her, not knowing what to say.

"You need to tell me now, am I wasting my time here?" she asked exasperatedly.

He stared off in the distance, suddenly feeling an attack of conscience. "No."

She gave him a long look and finally nodded graciously. They paid for her purchases, walking back to her apartment in silence.

The truth of the matter was, he didn't really want to discuss anything in the first place. Because giving voice to everything that happened meant that it was real and no longer would he be able to pretend it was just his imagination. That he, Elijah Mikaelson, an Original vampire, was so beyond damaged that needed a mere human girl's help to fix himself. That he was so weak and as a last resort would confide in Camille to avoid going completely ballistic.

He was already here wasn't he? And she was right, he had asked for her help. But, why did it feel so difficult?

After walking for some time, he finally spoke. Reluctantly at first, and then slowly gaining confidence with each word. "For a long time now…. for a long time now, my life has been lived in some state of darkness. I have loved here and there, but my focus was always to keep my family together. Keep us from killing each other, so to speak."

He exhaled sharply before continuing, "Then she… Hayley came into our lives with NIklaus' child. I grew to care for her, to keep her safe, to see to her comfort. Every time I saw her, I could feel myself… feeling, wanting. I held myself back because it was wrong. I considered her Niklaus', and although he had never shown any interest in pursuing her, it was wrong for me to covet her. I knew what she felt for me. I could see it in her eyes. But I could not, not even when she told me she was getting married, I could not tell her to not do it and just be with me."

"Why?"

"Because I was terrified of what I could do to her. That she would turn into another Tatia, another death in my hands. Because I knew she deserved someone far better than me. Someone less damaged, someone who was more like her. Because deep down, I know I do not deserve to be happy for everything I have done. I could not take her for myself. It would have been wrong to do so. Even if I knew I could have said something to stop that marriage, could have whisked her away at the last possible moment and disappeared…. I have no right to miss her, after all, it was ultimately my choice not to do anything, but I do."

She was quiet for some time before she asked him, "Why do you hate yourself so much, Elijah?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you talk like you have no right to happiness."

"I am much too old, much too wise for happiness in my life, Camille. I've had centuries to have the happiness I could. If it was meant for me, do you not think it would have happened by now? At this point in my life, all I can do is atone for the past."

They finally reached her apartment, and he deposited the bags on her kitchen counter. She put her purse down, causing some of the contents to spill out, one of which was an ancient-looking dagger with tiny stones on the hilt.

She opened her fridge, calling out, "You want anything? Soda? Alcohol?"

"Unless you have a bag of blood in there to tide me over, no thank you."

She rummaged inside her fridge for a few minutes and presented him with a bag of blood, "O negative good for you?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I was attempting a joke then, I did not think you would actually have blood in here."

"I can't offer my vervain-filled blood to guests, I guess the polite and logical thing to do was store a bag or two in there. I'm just careful not to let anybody look into my fridge." She saw him studying the bag of blood and said, "I usually replace them every three weeks, so that's still fine, but it's not the freshest."

"I will have to pass on that since I can feed later. I cannot stand the taste of week-old, let alone three-week-old blood with all the chemicals, but I appreciate the offer nonetheless." He motioned to the knife on the counter, "Do you know how to use that?"

"I've started bringing it with me ever since I've encountered Finn. I've even searched Kieran's inventory for other knives, but this is the smallest one I feel comfortable bringing. The others have a chock-full of dark magic if I even prick my finger on them, I'm not sure I'd be alive." She cleared her throat, as if embarrassed. "Honestly I've been wanting to learn self-defense. I can't keep relying on other people to keep saving me. I know I'm human and no match for a supernatural but…" she trailed off.

He could respect that. The most she could do was probably use a weapon, distract somebody long enough to get away. He suddenly felt guilty for having a human involved in their business.

"Do you know how to throw a knife?" he asked.

"No. I've been practicing with ninja stars though, are they the same?"

"It's all about the wrist movement." He stood up and showed her, demonstrating with her knife. He threw it with no spin, hitting its mark on the wall across them.

She exclaimed, "Oh god, my landlord will kill me. Here, I have a board to practice on." She came out of her room with a tall piece of wood wide enough for knife-throwing practice.

He gave her the knife and she threw it horribly, the handle of the knife hitting the board.

"It's your wrist, you have to relax it…"

"Like this?" she demonstrated, doing it the wrong way.

"Grip it like this," he said, showing her how to properly hold the knife in hands, guiding her hands with the right motions.

And this was how Niklaus conveniently found them in her apartment, standing together with Elijah holding on to her wrist and upper arm in a quite intimate fashion.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Niklaus commented, leaning lazily against the doorjamb, eyeing the two of them.

"Brother," he said, slowly letting go of Camille's arms.

Niklaus was in his usual attire, leather jacket, long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, one of those horrendous necklaces Elijah despised. And right now, he was also wearing an aura of pretentious indifference. How entirely predictable.

Klaus looked up at the ceiling, as if bored. "There I was back at the compound, searching high and low for you, thinking, what could have happened to my brother? Missing, no message. Has he gone berserk somewhere? Has he gone amok and started killing people again? I've kept calling your phone with no answer, thinking the worst. And yet I find you here. With Camille."

He gave Elijah that smile. That infuriating smile that spread so slow across his face it would strike fear in enemies because they knew what was coming next.

"Here I am, brother," he said casually, knowing that this exact tone would irritate his brother further.

Elijah sensed Cami eyeing Niklaus, gauging what kind of mood he was in. She could sense something was wrong, but she hadn't yet caught on. Unlike her, Elijah already knew exactly what kind of mood his brother was in. He'd known him and his paranoia far too long to buy into that deceptively calm demeanor.

"Elijah's just teaching me some self defense moves after I bullied him into helping me with grocery shopping," she explained.

"Was that so?" Klaus' eyebrows raised, a sardonic little smile on his face. "This Elijah? Bullied?"

Elijah decided to be the better man. "I am heading out, Niklaus. Will you come with me?"

"I would like to speak to Camille in private," he said, finally stepping in the apartment. "That is, if you don't mind?" he mockingly asks, giving Elijah a sideways glance.

He shook his head inwardly at his brother's behavior. So obvious and childish. And they said _he_ was the psychologically damaged one. He looked back at Cami, wanting to protect her from his brother's immaturity. He could see from her determined look she finally understood that NIklaus was feeling pretty vindictive at the moment.

_Good girl._

He raised his eyebrow inquiringly and she nodded in acquiescence, as if to say she'll be fine. "I'll see you soon Elijah."

He left, confident she could hold her own and Niklaus would never purposely harm her. God knows he didn't want to be the one stuck explaining things to his stupid brother.

…

Klaus helped himself to the bottle of whiskey on her counter and poured himself a drink, jaw clenched, not even able to look at her.

She didn't really know what to say so she decided to go for the direct approach.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded. He looked at her this time with some hostility in his eyes.

"Funny you should inquire about that. I was going to ask you the same," he said, downing the contents of the glass in one gulp without taking his eyes off her. "Did I come at a bad time? Was I intruding on a private moment between you and my brother?"

She felt confused as to where this was coming from. _Did she do something wrong?_ "I don't underst…"

"Let me make this clear," he said, slamming the glass down and walking towards her menacingly until he'd backed her against a wall. He put one of his hands against the wall, right next to her, effectively closing off any escape if she wanted to.

_Oh God._

Encountering Klaus at a safe distance, like twenty feet away, was very, very different from encountering Klaus inches away. Her senses were suddenly on overdrive.

She felt the heat of his body, smelled the scent of his aftershave, felt the brush of his leather jacket against her bare arm. From this distance she could see just how blue those eyes were, blue with tiny flecks of green in them. Those eyes were slowly becoming darker, eyeing her with an intensity that surprised her.

"You were letting him touch your hands like this…" He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers back and forth with his thumb.

They'd touched hands before, but why did this feel so different? This certainly didn't feel like a warm, friendly touch. It felt like he was purposely stroking her in such a torturous manner to elicit a reaction. She felt goosebumps begin to form all over her.

"I didn't let…" she started, but stopped when he suddenly bent forward, his face nearing hers, almost feeling his lips on top of hers.

Almost, but not quite.

She didn't know if he was purposely hovering his lips close to hers, but whatever he was doing was distracting her from making any kind of movement and making her forget all kinds of speech. She felt his hot breath as he exhaled, his mouth moving from the side of her mouth, moving slowly… slowly… until his lips were right next to her ear, saying, "You were letting him touch your arms like this..."

Fingertips that were previously stroking her hand stopped and traced their way to her upper arms, all the time she was conscious of how he felt her soft bare skin. Why did she choose all of these days to have a sleeveless shirt on? She couldn't think about answering that in her head because his hand stopped on her upper arm and began making lazy, sensual circles, making her already shallow breathing catch. His thumb was back to stroking her skin back and forth and she looked up at him in bewilderment.

_What is going on?_

Despite the slow languid touches, his eyes held a trace of anger as they met hers, "What else were you going to let him do? Were you going to let him do this?"

He lowered his head to her neck, nipping the sensitive skin and ever so slowly licking the part that he had caused to redden. He did this once, twice, three times, she lost count. The hot feel of his mouth on one of the most sensitive parts of her body made her unconsciously groan and tilt her neck to one side, giving him better access to it.

As soon as she willingly exposed her neck, she momentarily sensed him freeze, heard his breathing change, becoming faster and louder, less controlled. She heard those fangs come out, felt him momentarily lose himself as he put his hand on the back of her neck and tilt her head away to make more room for the feed. Before she could blink, those sharp fangs were grazing the skin of her neck, ready to pierce. His breath was hot and fast on her skin.

_Oh god he really was going to bite her._

"Klaus…!"

Her panicked scream made him release her and take a step back. His eyes were glazed and unfocused as he licked his fangs before retracting them. They gradually changed from gold-flecked to blue once more, and he was breathing hard from the momentary excitement.

She stared at him warily, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to expect next. She couldn't tell at all what he was thinking.

Before she could determine her next course of action, he tentatively, carefully, brought one hand back to her neck and pulled her closer to him. His thumb swept back and forth on the reddened marks on her neck from where he'd nipped her earlier.

He gazed at her wordlessly, for how long she didn't know. She was distracted by the tender way she was being held, the way his eyes searched hers as if he knew every secret she had, the way the hand that was earlier touching her neck was now gently cupping her cheek.

"Were you going to let Elijah do this too?" he quietly asked, as he pulled her close into a kiss.

It was a cruel kiss. His lips were rough and punishing, as if they wanted to teach her a lesson, prove a point. The way he took and tasted her mouth like it was his to mark… he didn't want her to take pleasure in this.

_No… not like this..._

His grip on her neck eased as he tilted her head to kiss her more deeply, coaxing hers open. She resisted at first. But the hot licks, the slow sensuous strokes combined with the hard press of those lips were making her lose her mind. She finally let him in.

His mouth and tongue possessed hers completely. It was intense, like open flames setting her whole body on fire. The kiss swiftly turned from one of rough possession to something entirely different. She moaned against his mouth, forgetting where she was and who exactly was kissing her. All it mattered was that it felt good.

Until the moment he stopped.

Her eyes flew open. Her breathing was ragged while he wasn't even close to winded. She saw him eye her swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

Did she really lose all sanity just now? Was she just about to… dear god.

She felt her cheeks redden more with unbelievable embarrassment at how easy it had been for him to play her. How easy it was for him to stop in the middle while she was so physically and emotionally invested.

"I'm sorry," was all he said, his eyes a conflict of emotions.

Too many emotions, not one did she have time to dissect and distinguish because he walked out the door, leaving her alone in her apartment.

…


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you all for the nice reviews! They are much appreciated.

**Chapter Three: Confessions**

Elijah Mikaelson loved reading. He loved seeing old books and their hardbound covers magnificently displayed on shelves, relished the way turning the pages felt in his hands, loved the distinct smell as he opened a particular favorite novel. He enjoyed the relaxation it brought every time his mind was transported to another place. Reading was a good way to keep himself pre-occupied. And right now, that was what he was attempting to do.

Seated at their living room, he had been trying to turn the same page for the past half hour with little success. His eyes kept moving towards the words, but his mind wasn't really absorbing any of it. Unfortunately for him, his chosen method of distraction was currently being… distracted with much unnecessary ruckus from his surroundings.

From the top of his book he peered at his brother who was currently finishing off his second bottle of scotch of the day. Aside from paranoia and narcissism, they apparently needed to add alcoholism to his burgeoning list of problems.

He didn't know whether Niklaus' constant brooding had anything to do with what transpired a couple of days ago when he found Elijah in Camille's apartment. After that unpleasant bit of dramatics, Niklaus had been pretty much quiet, mostly keeping himself isolated in his bedroom. He'd heard brush strokes, some frustrated yelling, a canvas or two being ripped and thrown on the floor. Things which weren't really anything to be worried about because that was typical Niklaus behavior.

However when he was completely ignoring Elijah like this and just carrying a glass of scotch that seemed to infinitely refill itself, Elijah had due cause to get apprehensive. By the end of the day, some poor unsuspecting soul's neck usually got broken from Niklaus' temper getting the best of him.

After what felt like the hundredth time of hearing his brother come out of his bedroom and stumble through the living room to refill his unsurprisingly empty glass, rummage through the old stock of fine whiskey and scotch bottles, mutter to himself, accidentally break a bottle and soak one of Elijah's two-hundred-year-old tomes on the table, Elijah decided he had had it.

He shut his book with a loud snap and sighed audibly. "What seems to be the problem, Niklaus?"

Niklaus gave him a momentary glance before going back to examining bottles. "If you could, for once in your life, just mind your own business for now, Elijah, I would truly appreciate it."

"In case you haven't noticed, I have been trying to do exactly that for the past hour. But clearly you are in some dire need of attention. So here it is, you have my attention."

"This might seem a strange notion to you, I'm sure, but not every little thing is about you or involves you, brother. You can go back to the latest drivel you are reading and pay me no mind."

"Quite impossible to do that since you are being your usual good-natured self so early in the morning."

Predictably, that earned him a scowl. More pouring and drinking happened before Niklaus spoke in a nonchalant manner. "Are you seeing Camille today?"

At least that explained the mystery. To some degree.

"Is there something I should know?" he asked Niklaus.

His brother predictably didn't answer and chose to nurse his drink instead.

He was so tired of this brooding mood Niklaus had, while he, Elijah, was supposed to be the sick and "mentally unstable" one. He wanted, just for once, for Niklaus to confide something honestly without the ensuing rubbish that seemed to naturally pour out of his mouth.

Elijah was mentally praying for some sort of god to grant him more patience when Niklaus finally spoke. "A couple of days ago, I might have… lost control. With her," came the unexpected confession.

Elijah's eyebrows shot up. As he looked at Niklaus' agitated face, he finally understood where this was all coming from. "Did you hurt her?"

"No, but I nearly did. I can't…" he stopped and exhaled. He tilted back his glass and emptied it. He looked so unsettled that Elijah felt a little guilt for keeping a secret of his own.

"Brother, there is...something you should know," he started.

Niklaus stopped gazing out the window and turned to him expectantly.

"Back at the safehouse, I nearly did hurt her. I could not control it. Had she not called out my name, had she not begged me to calm down, I do not think I would have snapped out of it."

He saw Niklaus' look of disbelief , followed by his expected cry of outrage. "And you did not think of telling me this at all? Had I known what happened..."

Elijah cut him off. "You knew. You told me yourself that you knew this would happen, brother. What was that you said before? It was a"great risk leaving her alone" with me. It was indeed a great risk, I still do not understand why you have done it, but back then I could not question your decisions. I have apologized to Camille profusely, and she has… such a magnificent heart, she forgave me without hesitation. I do not think she grasps how easily she could have lost her life there and then."

Niklaus looked stunned.

Elijah went on. "We are built to kill, you and I. She is human, after all. Prey to natural predators like ourselves. She has forgiven me in the end, that is the type of courageous woman that she is. She understands what plagues us, what makes us do these unspeakable acts. But Niklaus, let me remind you that every day we continuously interact with her puts her life at greater risk. We could lose control or one of our enemies, your enemies specifically, could put a veritable target on her back. A thing she is more than likely aware of because she has confided in me of wanting to learn self defense. And that was exactly what I was doing the morning you came to her apartment. I was teaching her how to defend herself."

Niklaus kept staring at him, apparently speechless at everything he'd now just revealed. He saw in his brother's eyes, more conflict, instead of the resolution he had hoped his speech would bring.

They did not speak for a long time, as Niklaus was still as a statue, perhaps thinking, perhaps plotting some kind of plan in his head once more. He had lived with his brother for centuries and still to this day, he could not always predict what went on inside that convoluted mind of his. All his life he had done his best to preempt reckless actions to prevent tragedy, but Niklaus continuously surprised him at every turn. There really was no way to predict what he would do, he was a combination of calculated machinations and angry impulse. Who on earth can be one step ahead of that?

Elijah gave up and finally went back to his book.

"Hayley is coming tonight by the way," his brother casually said.

Elijah's hands nearly tore out a page. He certainly didn't expect those words to be the next one out of his mouth. "She is spending the night I assume?"

"Of course. Hope's first birthday party is tomorrow. I trust you remember I have told you about the little get-together we planned for her."

He didn't really remember anything about a party, given the catatonic state he was in for the past couple of weeks, but he nodded his assent anyway. He wanted to go back to Marcel's, but he had no choice but to be there. Family and duty came above everything else. Unfortunately they were also the very things that were driving him insane.

…

It was a slow day at Rousseau's, a weekday afternoon, and there were barely any customers except for a middle aged chain-smoking blond woman and this twenty-something dark-haired guy who was grossly absorbed in his sci-fi novel.

Lately, to distract herself, Camille O'Connell purposely had been throwing herself a hundred percent to her studies and work. There were a million things she could have been doing, and ruminating about something that happened days ago was the last possible thing in her mind. She had work, she had school, Kieran's notebooks to read, and friends to keep in touch with during her free time.

But of course, the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. When things were quiet at the bar, or when she drifted off while reading another chapter of Kurt Lewin's scientific studies, all she thought about was that kiss.

That and how much of a jerkwad Klaus was.

Right now, mostly, felt pretty stupid for getting herself involved with a presumptuous, egotistic, womanizing… bounder. It's not like she was a weak kneed eighteen year old with no romantic experience. She was used to dealing with high-levels of douchitude, ego, and testosterone since she worked in a bar.

Except that she couldn't really compare a hybrid vampire-werewolf to a bunch of rowdy frat boys, could she.

Why did he do that though? Did he just want to prove a point? Did he honestly think that she was flirting with Elijah? Was he jealous of the time she and Elijah spent, even if it was him who asked her to help his brother out? After everything they've been through together, she thought he would be above doing petty things to her, but apparently not. The Klaus who risked his life to save her, the Klaus who came when she called for help, the Klaus who she thought she was finally reaching through… she had to constantly remind herself that it was also the same Klaus who could do things like that, jump to the wrong conclusions and act so impulsively, so quickly, it was beyond understanding.

Despite telling herself that logically, a person cannot be a hundred percent good or a hundred percent evil, that there must be some reasoning why he treated her so poorly the other day, she felt upset by everything. She looked out for Elijah when he asked her to do so, even coming to her at the most inconvenient times. How many times had she had to drop something because he or Elijah or somebody from their family needed her to do something? She normally would never account for things she did for people she considered friends, but when they went as far as to behave horribly, affecting her on such a personal level, it wasn't fair to her at all.

For the first time, she realized she wanted nothing more than to just up and say "Fuck you crazy Mikaelsons, I quit" and run away to Timbuktu.

She groaned inwardly, trying to snap herself out of her destructive thoughts, and went back to vigorously wiping the counter.

Her phone in her pocket rang loudly and she gave it a peek to see who was calling at this time.

KLAUS M CALLING, the glowing screen displayed.

She was surprised he was even calling after three days, given his penchant to not keep in contact after doing something that particularly annoyed the heck out of her. Right now, she wasn't really feeling like talking to him and getting stressed at work over something that was his fault. She can deal with that later.

She let the call go through voicemail.

Her phone rang with two more calls from him before it finally stopped and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Now if she could just go back to work and focus on the important aspects of her life, that would be fine by her. Live a completely normal...

Her phone rang again, this time it said ELIJAH M CALLING on the screen.

She debated on letting it go to voicemail as well, but her conscience got the best of her and she answered on the third ring, "Elijah."

"Cami, it's me," came Klaus' voice.

Shocked, she hung up immediately, horrified to hear his voice.

Wait, did she really just do that? Hung up on big bad wolf, Klaus Mikaelson? She was going to pay for that later, wasn't she. Not that she cared what he thought right now because in her opinion, he was just a jerk. A big dumb jerk.

She knew she was being juvenile with her thoughts and not answering her calls, but it's not like she was ready to deal with Klaus as of the moment. All she could do was call him names in her head.

"What did that counter ever do to you?" came the voice across the bar.

She blinked._ Huh?_

It was one of the bar's customers. Sci-fi Novel Guy. He sauntered over to where she was and said, "You've been wiping that counter so forcefully for the past ten minutes, you would think it did you a grave personal offense."

She looked down and realized that the specific spot was polished way more than the rest of the counter. She gave out an awkward laugh. "Oh it's just.. I'm a clean freak. There was a particularly persistent spot in there I had to really put some elbow grease into it."

SciFi Dude eyed her thoughtfully, "A persistent man-shaped spot, I gather?"

Embarrassed at being caught wool-gathering indeed about a man, she blurted out. "Nope, just a regular spot." And then seeing his raised eyebrows, added, "Really annoying, selfish, egotistical spot."

He laughed, guessing exactly what she was talking about.

Before they could converse on anything more, the devil himself, Klaus Mikaelson, appeared on the doorway of Rousseau's, casually ambling towards her, dressed again in an ensemble that was probably twice as expensive as her monthly rent. Those piercing eyes and that five o'clock shadow made him look even more dangerous than usual and she wondered for a crazy second, why on earth the Original hybrid couldn't be a balding, duck-footed sixty-year-old man with a paunch and a lisp. It would probably have been easier to deal with him that way.

Nope, this particular one had to look like he stepped right out of the cover of GQ Magazine. God certainly had a lousy sense of humor.

Klaus drew close and he gave the guy talking to her no more than a careless sideways glance, completely focusing on her.

"Cami," he started. "I was hoping to speak to you in private."

She swallowed but met his gaze steadily and said, "Well that's worked out well for us in the past, hasn't it."

He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, suddenly looking as if he was unsure of what to say.

"We can talk later," she said.

He gazed at her for a second and finally set down a small envelope on the counter. "This is for you, for tomorrow's event. Just a simple gathering of friends. I would really like it if you could make it."

"Is that…?"

"Hope's first birthday party, yes."

She paused, not knowing what to say. She did want to go there for Hope, but there were some complicated matters she wanted to avoid. At this point she didn't know if the best action for her was to distance herself from the original family or not. A normal human being would have run away screaming a long time ago.

Klaus interpreted her silence as a 'no' and started to object, "Cami…"

"Is this guy bothering you?" Sci Fi dude finally spoke up.

Klaus turned his head quickly to his direction, eyes narrowing with menace as if unbelieving this man had the audacity to address him so rudely.

"No," Cami said quickly, shooting Klaus a warning glance. "He's not. He's just dropping something off and leaving." Under her breath, she muttered, "Klaus, whatever you're thinking, please don't do it..."

Klaus' face was the picture of barely concealed ire at her last sentence. She could tell he was trying to keep his irritation restrained and thoughts of snapping this man's neck were probably running rampant in his head. For a tense couple of seconds, as she saw a vein pulsate wildly on his forehead, she thought he really was going to do it.

"Klaus?" she tentatively asked.

With some difficulty, he nodded wordlessly at her and left.

….

The day mercifully ended without any more untoward incidents for Cami. She plopped exhaustedly on her bed breathing a long sigh of relief, her feet sore from standing up from afternoon until two in the morning. Right now the only thing she could think of was whether to take a long hot shower or be disgusting and just go to sleep exactly like this, make-up on and spilled drinks on her shirt. She was just about to get up when her phone rang.

ELIJAH M CALLING, the screen glowed. She cancelled the call and let it go to voicemail.

A text message popped up within a minute.

[Answer the phone, Camille.]

She groaned and mustered the energy to type back. [Who is this?]

[Elijah. Who else?]

She typed a lengthy reply. [I don't trust you. Prove you are Elijah. What drink did you order the first time you went to Rousseau's? Also, do you know what time it is? Some of us are not beings of the night.]

There was a delay in the next text message wherein she imagined, if it really was him, Elijah rolling his eyes.

Wait, she couldn't really picture Elijah doing that. But then that was the problem with Elijah wasn't it? He never really showed his feelings. He would just sit still in silence and curb any impulse or emotion until he had things back in control again. The complete opposite of Klaus. Figures.

His message came through after some minutes.

[Martini, two olives. My apologies for contacting you this late.]

Martini, two olives, that was the right answer. She suddenly went back to that scene of Elijah talking to her the first time at the bar. It felt like such a long time ago. Before she was even aware that vampires, werewolves, and witches existed. Before she found out the truth of what happened to Sean. Before Kieran's death.

Sometimes she wondered if she could travel back in time, would her younger self even listen to her older self's warning about supernaturals? More importantly, even if she could travel in time to warn herself, did she really want to undo everything she learned and regret opening this pandora's box? Would she be happier living her life as normal as possible without knowing everything she knew now about the supernatural world? She honestly didn't even know the answers to those. Knowing about them equally brought both good and bad in her life. All she had to do was try to ride the wave as best as she could.

She finally dialed Elijah's number.

He answered, his voice with a hint of impatience. "I suppose Niklaus informed you of the party for Hope tomorrow?"

"Yes, he gave me the invitation for it. I can't believe she's turning one already. But surely that can't be the reason you're calling?"

"Were you planning to attend at all?"

"How did you even kno-"

He cut her off. "I really would like for you to be there, Camille."

"Why?"

"To assist in rectifying whatever it is that is plaguing Niklaus. His typically obnoxious behavior has become even more boorish. I cannot have the peace of mind I need in my own home."

She was silent, tempted to just give him a big fat no.

"I believe you said to surround myself with things I enjoy and at all cost, avoid things that I find vexing and troublesome?"

"Yes but…"

"The things I enjoy? Music, fine wine, reading. Everything that requires some form of peace and quiet. The things I find vexing and troublesome? Niklaus drinking our whole stock of scotch as if the prohibition starts tomorrow. Niklaus consistently trying to get me and Hayley in the same room. Niklaus speaking the moment I start to close my eyes to sleep. May I just say that ever since that day when I left you two alone, I've found him very… and I shall pleasantly put it this way for your delicate ears, taxing, more so than usual."

"You act like this is all my fault."

"I know it is not, but I assure you, that you do have the solution to my problem."

"Elijah, I completely understand you but you keep forgetting, there is only so much I can do. I'm not some… miracle worker," she said exasperatedly.

"Camille, after all this time, you still do not know?" Elijah countered. "To him, you are."

After that, there really was no debate on whether she was going or not. So much for trying to distance herself.

...

To say that Hope Mikaelson's first birthday party was extravagant was an understatement. Long ropes of light spread all across the Mikaelson compound, covering the area in little firefly-like glows. Entwined with the strings of light were pieces of baby pink tulle and ribbons, giving the area a whimsical feel. Flowers of every shade of pink were strategically arranged all over the tables and the rails of the staircases. Dozens of tables were laid out on the edges of the room, each one decked with more food than the next. The dessert table looked especially delightful with its dozen different pink and white colored desserts and frothy concoctions, but it was the centerpiece that stole the show.

It was a huge seven-tier birthday cake, each tier covered in candies of a different shade of pink, the top layer with the lightest shade going down to the bottom with the darkest shade.

Cami arrived a bit late to the party, it seemed things have started since late afternoon and everybody was just milling about and socializing. She self consciously put down her birthday present, a baby book for Hope's first words, on a table which was already overflowing with gifts. Next to all the extravagant looking ones, hers did look pitiful and she hoped it wouldn't get lost with all the princess castles and dollhouses she saw in there.

She took another look around. This was not exactly a simple gathering for friends, as Klaus initially put it. It seemed everyone who was anyone in New Orleans was invited. She could have sworn she saw the mayor of New Orleans talking to the local weatherman by the corner. There were also numerous vampires and werewolves decked out in their Sunday best, clustered by the champagne fountain, all eager to partake in the free-flowing alcohol.

Before coming here, she initially thought she would be overdressed in her outfit, a lacy emerald green cocktail dress. She loved the dress because it was quite modest from the front, but had a partially open back that emphasized all the intricate lace detailing. She'd hesitated putting it on, thinking it might be a little too much but upon seeing what the rest of the crowd was dressed like, however, she immediately heaved a sigh of relief on that decision. Which she thought was just a bit crazy given that this was a baby's first birthday party.

In her time a kid's birthday party meant a lot of kids running around, a bouncy castle set-up, lots of balloons, lots of clowns… at least, that's how she thought normal people did it. Somebody badly needed to intervene with the Mikaelsons and their ridiculously extravagant parties.

She tried not to look so out of place and thankfully caught a glimpse of Hayley and Jackson by the stairway. Hayley looked positively lovely in a pink knee-length Grecian-style chiffon dress. She was carrying an already sleeping Hope, which made Cami assume the baby had been up for hours before the party.

Upon seeing Cami, Hayley waved and walked towards her, all smiles as she approached. "Thanks for coming. It's been seriously crazy since this afternoon."

"Tell me about it. I certainly didn't expect all of this for a first birthday party!"

"Please! I told Klaus to keep things simple but of course, he had to go do it his way and hire some frou-frou event planner. You know when he started talking about that a month ago, I just zoned out and nodded to whatever he wanted. Then before I know it, people are wheeling in this seriously excessive cake. Have you seen that thing? Like who the heck will even cut that open and eat it?"

Cami laughed, amused at how Klaus was the one concerned with party-planning. "That cake is over the top even for him. He is aware that there are kids starving in Africa?"

"He knows but the question is, does he care?"

"Wouldn't bank on it," Cami said while reaching out to stroke the sleeping toddler's cheek.

Hayley eyed her, "You know… he's been in a mood lately." There was something in her stare that was a little too knowing.

"Oh?" Cami asked, eyes now focused on Hope.

"Like, oddly even more than usual. Know anything about that?"

"Not really."

Hayley pursed her lips, not saying anything. She finally let it go and changed the subject. Soon enough Marcel and Gia joined their little party to all make fun of the monstrous pink cake.

Jackson came over as well, looking dapper in a fitted gray suit. He reached out and touched Hayley's shoulder, "I want to introduce you to a couple of wolves that just arrived." Hayley nodded, "Sure thing," and made a move to go with him when Hope fidgeted and cried out.

"Oh no, let me just go put her in the nursery…" Hayley said, panicking.

Cami volunteered, "I can go do that for you if you want."

"Really? Are you sure? I seriously don't want to impose on you."

She shook her head, "Not at all. You go do your thing. I'd love to have the honor of putting the birthday girl to bed tonight." Hayley gave Hope a tender kiss on the forehead and Cami gingerly took the baby from her, watching as Jackson took hold of Hayley's hand with a smile and led her away.

Briefly, Cami wondered where Elijah was and whether he was seeing all of this.

She hoped not, for his sake.

….

Cami carefully laid Hope down on her crib, making sure to tuck her in properly with a little blanket in case it got drafty. She watched her wriggle for some time before settling in to a more comfortable position. Cami smiled as she gave Hope's leg a couple of pats while humming a song, trying to soothe her back to sleep.

She got lost in thought, thinking of how it would feel like if she had a child of her own. Someone to pour all her love into. It felt weird for her thoughts to be taking into this direction. She had always thought of herself as a woman who wanted a career first, but then spending time with Hope changed her perspective in some ways. It also made the growing ache inside of her feel even more pronounced.

She was just finishing humming a second lullaby when she heard soft footsteps behind her.

"I thought I'd find you here," came Klaus' voice.

She spoke before turning around to face him, "Well here I am… oh."

Klaus looked impressive in a well-fitting black suit and tie, with his hair brushed back. She noticed he'd also gone along with the color scheme of the party by wearing a salmon-colored button down with his suit. He looked so good that she wanted to raise her hand to shield her eyes from the blinding effect of his presence.

Instead she just mentally cursed the gods once more for bestowing this man with beauty his ego didn't really need.

"Ugh, Klaus, don't you ever turn it off?"

"Turn what off?"

"Your basic ugliness."

He smiled at her, generously allowing her that petty little snipe, the way only a man so confident in his blessed good looks would. He, of course, was fully aware she'd meant exactly the opposite.

He eyed her appreciatively. "You, on the other hand, look beautiful. That dress.."

She suddenly remembered she was supposed to be upset at him and not stupidly ogling over how good he looked in a suit. How easily she got distracted.

"I just showered today is all," she waved his compliment off and turned back to check on Hope.

She could feel his eyes burning a hole through her back and it was a while before he even spoke.

"Cami, listen. I want to talk to you, to apologize. Back at your apartment I did things I'm not really proud of…"

She faced him once more, irritated, "Like accusing me of flirting with Elijah when you specifically asked me to help him? Like nearly losing control and almost biting me? Or was it kissing me only to stop and leave, making me look like a fool?"

"I…" he stopped his train of thought and stared at her, confused, "You were angry I stopped kissing you?"

"Klaus, that wasn't the point! The point is you were…"

"A cad of the highest degree. I behaved horribly towards you when I should have been thanking you for getting Elijah out of the house. The thing is…"

He paused for a bit, and she could tell he was having difficulty with what he was about to say. "The thing is, Elijah, has always... taken things from me."

"First it was our father's love. Elijah was always the better son. The better fighter. The good son who didn't murder his other brother. Then it was our sister, Rebekah's affections. Elijah was the better brother. The better protector. The brother who wasn't a beast. Finally, it was Tatia's heart. He was the better lover, the better confidante, the better man. I, who have done nothing except go with what is my nature, have always been inadequate next to the noble and perfect Elijah."

His eyes, full of turmoil, met hers. "That day, I saw him with you, I wanted nothing more than to get him away from you. Is he to take this from me too?"

"This?"

"Everyone has always liked Elijah better. He has always been the one who is chosen-"

"I don't."

"Don't what?"

"Like Elijah better."

He looked dumbfounded, as if that was the last thing he'd expected her to say. There was a breath of silence as he digested that piece of information.

"Why would I like Elijah better? He wasn't the one who saved my life countless of times."

His face softened a little. "Are you saying you like me better?"

"Don't push it. I'm just beginning to forgive you now." She stared at him more, thinking. "You know, I can see why you would be jealous of him in the past, but why would you be jealous of him now? You have everything he wants."

"Like what?" he challenged.

"Like Hope, for one. He will never get to experience being a father, you know that right? Every time you carry that child in your hands… you just have her devotion to you as her father, as long as she lives. Something Elijah, not in a million years, can ever have. And you will always have this bond with Hayley as your child's mother, no matter what happens. That's something Elijah has had to cut off from his life forever. He should be jealous of what you have and not the other way around."

He stared at her, as if memorizing her face.

"Your life is not as empty and pitiful as you make it out to be," she said, a hint of resentfulness creeping in her voice.

They both stared at Hope in silence, listening to her steady breathing.

He suddenly turned to her, noticing the momentarily dark expression that overcame her face before, "Do you think yours is?"

"You're the one with issues remember? Since when do we talk about me?"

"Why, since you said you liked me better than Elijah."

"I didn't, really."

"I want to know the answer."

"Do I think my life is empty and pitiful?" she took a deep breath, not knowing what to divulge or keep to herself. "Sometimes."

He looked on in askance.

"Since Sean and Kieran died, I've just been having this feeling, of listlessness, belonging nowhere, maybe you could even call it depression. I can be surrounded by a room full of people, have a big smile on, talking like everything is normal, and still feel the loneliest I have ever felt in my life. At the safehouse with Hope and Elijah was the first time I felt like I could… belong somewhere. When I took care of… of both of them, it felt like someone needed me, depended on me. I was looking out for both of them, while they looked out for me too. And now I'm back at my old apartment and I suddenly feel this… gaping hole in my chest. And I…" her voice broke. "I realized that was what I was missing. A family. All of you here, despite being homicidal lunatics with a lot of psychological issues, are still part of the same family. You will always have each other in the end. You will always risk everything for each other. And despite all the crap you say about your siblings, you love them and they love you. You will never know the feeling of being alone."

She went on. "Finn was right. I refused to believe it but now it all makes sense. When he told me the reason your mother chose me as a vessel, it was because I was by myself, no one would question if I was different. Because if the real Cami disappeared, no one would notice or even bother go searching after me. It hurts like hell, but it's the truth. I try to throw myself into other things which is why I don't mind helping you or Elijah at all, but sometimes I just wake up and ask myself what's the point. Because... because sometimes being alone just gets tiring," she laughed shakily and looked down at her feet, suddenly embarrassed she revealed too much.

The silence that followed her statements was deafening. Why did she say all those things? He didn't really need to hear those. She would rather that she kept a strong front through and through, but she was just so tired. It was the first time, after a long time, someone had asked about her life. She didn't expect it to be him, is all.

"Cami…" Klaus started.

She looked more intently at her feet. The last thing she wanted was to see the pity on his face.

"Look at me."

Unable to raise her gaze, she said, "Thanks, but no thanks, I've looked enough for tonight."

He reached out and tenderly cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. He looked at her with such gentleness, she ached.

"If you disappeared from your body, who do you think will look for you first?"

She bit her lip, willing herself not to get emotional as he stared straight into her eyes. Those eyes that were normally filled with ferocity looked at her with so much understanding and kindness, she feared coming undone.

"In the centuries I've lived, I have always felt alone. I have always traversed life feeling alone, and it is just now I am beginning to shed that notion. For you to feel that pain..." he said.

"I want you to listen to me and remember what I am saying..." he spoke carefully, making sure she caught every word.

"You are never alone. Not while I am here."

Only when she blinked and felt a single tear roll down her cheek did she realize how much she needed to hear someone say that. How much she needed to hear that someone had her back. How much she needed it to be him.

He gently wiped the lone tear with his thumb.

"For as long as you live, Camille, I will always, always, come when you call."

And she believed him.

….


	4. Chapter 4

These past few weeks have been tough, I had so much work piled on me, and I barely got the time to write. I've only begun writing again this week when my schedule has become less toxic. I wanted to include more scenes in this chapter, but then it all became too long a scene so I had to cut it off to have it for the next. Thank you all for your reviews, they encourage me to go on with writing the story. When I feel pretty shitty I go read the reviews and tell myself some people want to read what I write. So thanks for the support, guys.

**Chapter Four: Education**

The rain fell steadily on the wooden floor of her terrace. Camille O'Connell had been staring out at the gray skies all morning, debating on whether or not to stay at home or run her errands. Staying at home in pajamas won out. Keeping herself busy would have been the perfect solution to lapsing into dangerous daydreams. Now she was stuck here, waiting for the rain to dwindle. She'd made herself a mug of hot chocolate instead and was planning to curl up with one of the romances she'd bought on a whim. Although, at the back of her mind, reading love stories while hearing the raindrops on the roof seemed utterly counter-productive to what she wasn't supposed to be thinking about.

Was it only a week ago, when they were at Hope's party? When she'd been unable to keep herself from confiding to Klaus about her feelings of loneliness? When he'd told her, in no uncertain terms, that he would always look out for her?

She didn't know how exactly she was supposed to feel. On one hand, this was the Klaus who had done so much kindness to her. On the other hand, this was also the Klaus who had done so much damage to himself and others, add to the fact that he was impulsive and volatile in nature. Oh and did she forget the part where he was a thousand year old part werewolf part vampire with a gazillion enemies wanting him dead?

Yet, despite all of these things, just hearing those words come out of his mouth had made her feel warm. Relieved. Happy.

After that, her tears had dried, and she was overcome with embarrassment about her emotional outburst. She was thankful for the distance Klaus had now kept to compose herself. She remembered rummaging through her purse for a piece of tissue, she remembered noticing the music wafting from downstairs.

They were slow songs. Not exactly the type one should hear at a child's birthday party, but then this party was never really for Hope, was it? It was more of a political move, if anything, to solidify alliances with humans and werewolves. His daughter's coming out party, unfortunately, might have just been a front for these machinations.

It made her think about how much of Niklaus Mikaelson she didn't really know. He was a complication, that's what he was. And he had a thousand years to accumulate all these weird little idiosyncrasies in his personality.

Klaus had noticed her slightly tilting her head to listen to the song, and a look of faint amusement briefly crossed his eyes. "I do love a slow song."

"So do I." Her eyes met his. "I think."

"Did you want to dance?"

She looked at him in surprise, remembering the last time they both danced..

_Ask me to dance._

She smiled. "Umm, it's probably better for the both of us if I put away my dancing shoes for good."

He raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

"I kind of remember being ditched last time, and for someone who doesn't really dance…" she trailed off with a laugh.

Klaus looked as if he wanted to say something about his previous ungentlemanlike behavior and then hesitated, as if deciding not to say anything was the best route. He gave her his best sheepish look instead, eyes cast down like a guilty dog.

And she would have totally fell for it if she didn't see those brief flash of dimples before he hung his face. When he looked up, indeed, all she saw was mirth in those eyes.

She shook her head in disgust, thinking Klaus Mikaelson probably had enough charm in his little finger to literally get away with anything. It's probably been this way for a thousand years.

She was getting ready to say something scathing about not even trying to use those damn dimples on her, when he held his hand out, and looked at her askingly.

"I've behaved dishonorably the last time. Allow me to make it up to you. May I have this dance?"

"Dance now?" she asked, stunned. "With me?"

"Who else is in this room, Cami?"

Another slow ballad was starting downstairs, clearly audible through the second floor. She became aware that aside from a sleeping Hope, they really were quite alone in such a small room.

_You've danced with him before, why is your heart beating so fast now?_

"It's just dancing, love," he said quietly.

She hesitated, thinking just a night ago, she had sworn to distance herself from the original family, telling herself it was the best for her sanity. She thought of everything Klaus had declared so sincerely. How it made her feel. Was it really so bad to stay here for a while? To feel some semblance of intimacy? Family?

"I seem to recall someone telling me months ago that there are good things in life, and 'a slow song' and 'a good friend' were both included in that list." he said, holding out his hand once more.

She smiled, finally caving in and taking his hand. Moving closer. "Did you just throw my quote back at me?"

"I believe I did. You see, you think of me as a scoundrel, but I have quite a good memory for the things you tell me," he said.

He gripped her right hand steadily with his left, and put his other hand on her bare back, gently nudging her even closer to him.

They swayed slowly to the beat. Just two people holding on to each other, no fancy moves, no counting steps. The way he studied her upturned face made her feel self-conscious, and she felt her breathing slowly becoming more uneven. It didn't help that his hand was pressed against the skin of her back, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking the skin there.

They barely moved while dancing, yet each time he shifted them around the floor, she was fully aware of his thighs pressing against hers. Aware of how strong and warm the hand that gripped hers was. Aware of the smell that surrounded them, whether it was cologne or aftershave, she didn't really know. Whatever it was, it just smelled good, clean, manly. It smelled like him.

She had this sudden desire to put her head on his shoulder. She wondered what he would do if she did that, just put her head on his shoulder and and stay like that for a long time. Would he twirl her around again and leave her?

_You are never alone, not while I am here. _

She felt her heart beat fast in her chest as he drew his face nearer and gazed at her with that same unreadable look he's always had. If she could just manage not to stare too long into those eyes, if she could just keep herself from getting sucked in, she'd be fine. She found herself staring at his nose instead, noticing that miniscule bump on the bridge. Her eyes moved across to his cheeks, and she'd thought about how some people had all the luck with bone structure. Her eyes finally went down to his lips...

_Oh god, wrong move, Cami. _

With much effort, she willed herself to tear her gaze away from those lips and raise her eyes.

When they finally met his, she knew then, as those piercing blue ones stared back at her, that she was in trouble.

Camille O'Connell, pysch major, horrifyingly mortal bartender of Rousseau, was falling.

She pulled back right as the song was ending, suddenly terrified at this realization.

"I… I have to go, I'm sorry," she stammered out, not looking at him.

She rushed out, out, out of the room, out of the compound, almost running in her heels, back to her tiny apartment, back to her home, where she felt safe once more.

And that was the last time she'd seen him or talked to him.

…

Here she was a week after, staring outside, watching the big raindrops splash on the ground. What she would give to be young and carefree again, jumping in puddles like these while she held on to her parents' hands.

Was she a coward for running away like that? Perhaps. The old her would have bantered with him as if nothing was really out of place. Right now, she felt out of sorts. She felt exposed and vulnerable, as if she'd just laid all her cards on the table. And she had, basically, just revealed a side of her she never showed to anyone else.

She felt safer before, when it was just him confiding in her. When she listened and just gave advice, it was all fine. Suddenly, the tables were turned, and it was him giving her comfort. She'd been confident about the wall she'd built around herself for years, not letting anybody in. Finn had spotted that right away, that reluctance to share anything too personal. Even as she let her guard down, she still kept that tiny part of her intact. She could view everything from a distance. As long as she kept that part of herself protected, intact, no matter what happened, she would come out unscathed. Nobody could hurt her again.

And yet here she was, for the first time in a long time, she'd just let somebody in. And not just anybody, but a man with issues as thick as a phone book. She was completely out of her element and it was throwing her off.

She sat on her tiny kitchen table and stared at the mug of hot chocolate she'd made earlier for herself. She touched it and felt the coolness of the ceramic. Great, she'd been so absorbed in her thoughts her chocolate got cold. Could nothing go right today?

She sighed and laid her head on the table face-first with a loud thump.

Maybe she should just repeatedly bang her head against the table, maybe that would help cure her of this stupidity. She thumped her forehead against the wood again.

"Penny for your thoughts?" came Elijah's mocking voice from above her.

She straightened up so fast, the chair screeched against the floor.

"Jesus Christ! Elijah! You scared the crap out of me. Do none of you ever knock?"

He was dressed once more in an immaculate suit, giving her one of his aristocratic nonplussed looks. Looks that seemed to be growing in frequency whenever they were in each other's company.

"To be clear, Camille, I have knocked. And I have been calling your name for quite some time now. If, for some reason, you've been too busy wool-gathering about certain… people… then that is entirely no fault of mine."

"What did you just say?"

"Hmm?" He feigned not knowing what she meant and made a motion to pick up some invisible lint from his already spotless suit.

She sighed. "Why are you here?"

"Is that your way of welcoming guests?"

"Just unwanted ones."

"Weren't you supposed to be curing me with your human compassion, and not your feminine indignation?"

"I'm testing out a new theory. Your friend, Freud, wouldn't know about it."

"You know, Camille, you seem to spend too much time with certain relations of mine. You are beginning to sound entirely too much like them."

"Oh my God, you're right."

"As I am always," he said smugly, beginning to fill her tea kettle with water from the sink. He began opening her cupboards and took out tea and sugar.

"Would you rather I sound like you then?"

"Enlighten me, how exactly do I sound like?" She saw those perceptive eyes slightly narrow.

"Uhh, smart. You sound _really_ smart, Elijah."

"An intelligent call on your part."

"Thank you. I value my life." she said, watching him take out teacups and teaspoons like it was his own home.

She started, "So two questions, what brings you here, and I know for sure it's not the crappy tea I have, and more importantly, how are you not even remotely wet with all the rain?"

He looked down at his suit as if noticing how dry it was for the first time, and then looked out her window with the torrential downpour outside. He motioned to the umbrella he'd placed near her door. "There is such a thing as an umbrella. Need I explain the function of it to you as well?"

She went to the door and placed the umbrella on top of one of her welcome rugs to avoid the drip on her poor wooden floors.

"What the…" she said, studying the 'R' insignia on the handle of the black and silver umbrella. "Oh my God. Is this a Rolls Royce umbrella?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I suppose a car goes with this too?"

"One has to have some sort of protection from the rain when one goes out, I believe."

"You do know most people buy the car for the car, and not for the accessories," she commented, feeling faintly sick at the Mikaelsons and their filthy rich lifestyle.

Meanwhile here she was, living in an apartment where she just saw a roach in the bathroom. Before she could even kill it last night, the blasted thing had scurried off to hide in one of those wedges in the paneling. She mentally shuddered at the recollection and wanted to hit Elijah in the face with his ridiculously overpriced umbrella.

Elijah stated, "The key word is 'most' people. Now that we have established how I have managed to… miraculously stay dry, despite your continuous obsession with irrelevant subjects baffling me, let me tell you why I am here."

"To rub it in my face that you all have money to burn while I have to work as a bartender to pay my rent?"

"I am here to teach you self defense."

"Oh." That made her pause. "Okay. That's good too, I want to learn. I've been thinking about how I want to improve on using the knife." She was getting excited when she remembered something bothering her. "Wait, does… does Klaus know about this? Is he going to pop up somewhere? Because the last time you and I were…"

Surprisingly, Elijah smiled. "I assure you, he is not."

"What makes you say that?" she said dubiously.

"Because with the intent of keeping you out of harm's way and giving you a stronger chance of survival should you ever fall into that way, Niklaus… was the one who adamantly requested I do this."

There was a long silence.

Elijah smirked, not bothering to keep the pleasure off his face as he realized he'd said the one thing that could shut Camille O'Connell up. Finally.

….

He'd been watching her from sometime now, that traitorous human. Traitor to her own kind. He'd seen them vampires come in and out of her apartment like it was a fucking vampire convention in there. Disgusting traitorous human.

He'd watched them all from afar, hell bent on getting revenge on the supernaturals responsible for his sisters' and niece's deaths. And all trails led back to the Original Family, right here in New Orleans. Ever since they came back, it had been nothing but a bloodbath. He was at his wits end on how to ever get them back, how to ever exploit any of their weaknesses, when he saw her.

There she was, behind the counter of the bar, beautiful and young. Full of life and innocence. He didn't know what was it about her that attracted him, maybe it was the earnest way she worked until late at night, or the way she smiled kindly whether it be a young jock or an old man.

But then one of the Mikaelson brothers came and talked to her and the fantasies he'd been entertaining in his head all shattered and quickly turned into rage. She was just like every other human who whored themselves out to vampires. Sick, needy little things looking for a quick high as they got bitten by these blood-suckers. Her neck was free of bites when he last saw, but he never knew with these stupid women nowadays. They had other parts of them bitten. Hidden parts. All whores for the supernaturals, the lot of them.

And she was the biggest one of them all, connected to the brothers that called themselves Niklaus and Elijah. The most powerful supernatural beings in the planet. How laughable they would be keeping such a close eye on a mere human girl and yet not realize how vulnerable she was to the dangers of their enemies. To the likes of him.

Camille O'Connell would rue the day she decided to choose the wrong side.

….

The week that Elijah decided to give her a surprise visit turned out into the longest week for Cami. After his announcement of wanting to train her, he'd ushered her to his place across the river, saying it had more room. She tried not to be annoyed as Elijah escorted her into his spanking new Rolls Royce and wisely kept her mouth shut the whole ride. No complaints or wiseass remarks were going to be heard from her as long as Elijah was seeing to becoming her mentor in self defense.

Training was scheduled every other day at his spacious loft. She once again observed that Elijah did like surrounding himself with things of beauty and luxury. The judo mats that were laid out beside the living room looked out of place with the dark and rich woods that decorated his home away from the compound.

Their first day had started out with basic moves to throw her enemy off balance. She'd been doubtful she could do it at first, but Elijah had shown her how to position her hands and feet to properly distribute her weight to be able to use her body as a lever to throw someone. Amazingly enough, after the first couple of clumsy tries, she'd finally been able to throw Elijah on the floor.

She whooped and was met with a stern look. Or as stern as he could get, lying prone on the floor.

After giving her several more scenarios wherein she'd be grabbed from behind, he demonstrated several variations of throws that should work, no matter how heavy her assailant was.

"The key is to catch them off guard, Camille. You see, absolutely no one expects a human to fight back. Once you catch them off-balance, you have precious extra seconds to make another move to attack, or simply to run off and hide. Of course, we are dealing with supernaturals, the second part is going to be a tad... difficult."

She was nodding in agreement when she felt the strangest sensation on the back of her neck. A slight prickle, as if someone was watching from behind. Very quickly, she turned around to see who it was, fully expecting someone.

There was no one there. She looked at the door to see if it was open, but it remained closed and she didn't hear anyone come in.

Elijah looked at her in annoyance, "If you must insist on wasting your time like this, Camille, you will do well to remember that you are also wasting mine."

"Yes, I'm sorry, I just felt like someone was…" she stopped, feeling self conscious at how stupid she sounded. Elijah had supernatural senses, of course if something was out of place he would have known even before she did.

She put it at the back of her mind and focused intently on what he was saying, resolving not to waste both their time and efforts. By the end of the second hour of practice, she was beyond exhausted. Her limbs felt like jelly and she had sweated disgustingly through her workout clothes. Elijah, of course, hadn't even broken into a sweat and looked like he was on a shoot for a men's fitness magazine, calmly drinking from a water bottle.

"Do I get some water too or is that just for you?"

"I suppose you deserve some," he said, handing her an extra one. "You did the best you could do today with your weak human girl limbs."

"Gee, thanks. I'm weeping from your high praise."

"It will take some time for you to get stronger, but now you know some of the basics of throwing, you can catch your assailant off guard, and stab to kill."

She gaped at him, "Ummm, yeah, about that stabbing and killing part…"

"I will, of course, teach you how to properly handle a knife in the coming days. We will practice with a much more suitable one than the one currently in your possession. I would suggest a bigger blade for deeper penetration of the wound, and a bigger hilt for easier twisting once you have buried the blade. It will certainly maximize the damage."

She blanched at his words, not daring to make a sound lest he get more grotesque in his description.

"Right now, Camille, you need to practice what you learned today. Practice it often enough, well enough that they become second nature when you are grabbed from behind or up front."

She nodded. "Thank you, for agreeing to do this."

He stopped moving and looked at her, taken aback by her gratitude. "I'm doing this for myself as well."

"Oh? Does it keep you busy?"

"Why, yes. Teaching a weak human requires a lot of patience. And of course, utmost self-control not to expire from laughter when..." he stopped upon noticing the mutinous look on her face.

"Well, I'm glad I was able to provide some sort of entertainment for you at least, Elijah," she paused, gearing up her ammo. "You seem to be doing a lot better lately. Any reason to that?"

"Hmm, must be your company," he said evasively.

She raised her brows. "Me? Oh no, must be a certain new dark-haired woman that must be doing wonders for your mood."

_Gotcha._

He looked at her so intently, she was shocked her face didn't burn off.

She'd gone to the bathroom earlier and noticed long strands of dark brown hair on the floor. She knew they weren't Hayley's because Hayley's was a shade lighter than that. She wouldn't tell Elijah how she knew. Let him wonder what she knew and how she knew it.

She stared triumphantly at the straight face he was trying hard to keep, and smiled sweetly. "You have a thing for brunettes? Anyone I know?"

He crossed his arms and considered her for a second, before finally conceding to reveal something to her. Elijah already knew perfectly well she'd conclude, and conclude wrongly. Better it come from him.

"She is someone who has given me… a fresh perspective on things. Let's just leave it at that. I do not want to preempt something that is still ambiguous to me as well."

She raised her hands, "Fine, fine, I'm not prying. I'm just happy to see whatever you're doing right now is working. You look much better, you sound much better."

"If this is your way of charming me, you must know…"

"You're going to say something really insulting right now, aren't you?"

"It_ is _brunettes I do have a thing for," he said, shrugging.

"Right. That's what I thought."

"Niklaus, in the meantime, try as I may to understand his particular preferences…"

Her ears picked up at the mention of Klaus' name.

"...has always had a thing for blondes," Elijah finished, giving her very blonde hair a pointed look.

Few words were exchanged after that.

….

Elijah Mikaelson had gone back to the compound the next night for the sole purpose of delivering a lecture. He finally spotted his brother staring out his balcony, viewing his own corner of the French Quarter.

"Elijah," he said, acknowledging his brother's presence without turning around.

"Niklaus, need I remind you of what we talked about regarding your request for me to train Camille? If you are not going to fulfill your end of the bargain, we might as well forget this plan of yours. If you wanted to see to her training yourself, then you should have told me so in the first place."

Niklaus gave him a hard look. "Will you look after Hope then? Will you manage the wolves? Will you be able to look at Hayley and Jackson and keep up with things? Will you manage the witches? The reason you agreed to do this was to be absolved of all of these responsibilities."

Elijah said nothing.

"You are overreacting, as usual, brother. I see no problem with me going to your place to see how you both are faring along. You need not bother yourself with welcoming me, of course. Just keep at what you were doing."

Elijah raised his eyebrows. "How arrogant you are to think she would not be able to sense when you are there. You are a distraction to both of us. I do not understand how you expect her to learn how to protect herself so quickly when every now and then her brows are furrowing and she is looking around trying to figure out if something is out of place. Is she to learn by osmosis?"

His brother had the audacity to smile. "Does she know it's me? She's a clever girl."

Elijah exhaled sharply, losing his patience. "I do not care who she thinks it is. You asked me to give her training and my condition was you stay out of it, otherwise your intention of giving her protection flies right out of the window. You cannot possibly meddle with everything else."

"I do not meddle. I merely check on things. And how dare you accuse me of meddling when that is your role our whole lives!"

"Do you really want to argue about this right now, Niklaus? Because I have one thousand years of history where you were only too good at inserting yourself where you didn't belong…"

"Well that's only from your memory, Elijah, and we both know how unfairly subjective that is."

Elijah paused, just looked at him, refusing to be dragged down to a childish and petty battle. "Niklaus, I am warning you…"

"Your obnoxiously loud voice is going to wake up Hope and she's just finally gone to sleep."

He stared Niklaus down, unwilling to budge by threats of waking up his precious niece.

Klaus rolled his eyes and sighed. "You have my word I won't be visiting again."

"Thank you." Elijah began walking away.

"How is she, by the way?" Klaus called out. "At training."

He turned back and looked his brother in the eye. "Terrible."

And with that, Elijah exited the compound.

….

Her shift at the bar tonight had been something straight from hell. Aside from its usual patrons, Rousseau's was jam-packed with rowdy tourists, including a group of thirty or so males all from the same college football team. It was apparently their last night in New Orleans and the boys were out to have some fun. She could barely keep up with everybody's orders, let alone have time to shield herself from a barrage of terrible pick up lines, drunken propositions and the usual leering a bartender faced.

It also didn't help that her whole body ached from her training. There had been three sessions so far and they had all been, well, brutal. The mere act of raising her arms to pour alcohol into a glass made her wince. She didn't know why she thought she could do this. She put down the heavy pitcher of beer she was filling from the tap and rotated her arms to work out the kinks.

"Does it hurt baby?" one drunk guy said loudly.

_Oh great, here we go._

"Let papi make it better," he continued, earning loud cheers and high fives from his jock buddies.

_Bruh, I'll make you hurt, bruh,_ she thought furiously, imagining having a vampire's strength and just flinging the guy as far as she could out of the bar. It was these times when Elijah's colorful words about twisting the knife for maximum damage to an enemy now seemed to make sense.

Finally two am came and it was time to close the bar. She said goodbye to the two other servers that were locking up. She was beyond the point of exhaustion and just wanted to get home. Maybe she should hail a cab instead of walking the ten blocks to her apartment. She did have enough tips for it tonight.

On second thought, after waiting for five minutes for a cab to come by with no such luck, she just decided to walk.

She finally reached her apartment, thankful to be home after the longest day in history. She took a hot shower, put her pajamas on, hit the lights, and was dead asleep in minutes without a thought or a worry.

….

She woke up feeling disoriented, feeling something was out of place. What time was it? She looked at the clock. 4 AM. For some reason her heart was beating fast, as if someone or something had made a loud sound and woken her up. The room was dark, but she felt the hair of her arms all stand up, getting the feeling that she was not entirely alone.

She groped around for her cellphone which she always left under her pillow, careful not to make it light up and alert whoever was with her that she was awake and had a phone in hand.

She heard a soft male titter from across the room. The sound sent chills up her spine. The confirmation that someone was indeed with her while she was sleeping just moments ago made her genuinely afraid for her life.

"Who's there?" she called, unable to keep the fear out of her voice. No answer. She continued to hide her hand and phone under her pillow, hoping to god she was pressing the right buttons.

She felt that whoever was in the room with her certainly had the intent to hurt her, and she needed to get any weapon in her disposal immediately. Her arms quickly reached for the knife she'd kept by her bedside.

"Tut, tut," the stranger finally spoke. "It's not there."

She felt a cold sweat as she fully realized the danger of the situation she was in. He had her knife. He could see what she was doing, while her eyes were still adjusting to the dark.

"What do you want?" she asked in panic, jumping off her bed and going to the side farthest from the voice.

"You don't remember me?"

"No! I don't know you!"

He turned on one of her small lamps, and she could finally see his figure. Baseball cap, tall, medium-build. He was ten feet away from her on the opposite side of the room, trying to close the distance in between them. There was nowhere to go but the door, which was nearer to him, and she tried to make a run for it.

Within a few steps, he lunged for her and tackled her without hesitation. She hit the floor on her back. Hard. She tried to get up but found herself unable to move, feeling the wind knocked out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him walking to her other side, drawing his face closer to hers.

It was a scary thing to experience, to have her assailant's face be that close to hers without being able to do anything. She laid there, frozen with shock and fear.

"Now do you remember me?" he asked, taking off his baseball cap, an insane smile on his face.

She nodded in terror, feeling the tears well up as the pain from falling hit her.

It was Sci-fi Novel guy from the bar.

That nice regular who'd been coming the past couple of weeks, chatting her up when the hours were slow, wanting to know her interests, wanting to know what things she did for fun here in New Orleans. Wanting to know who her friends were and where her family was. She had thought he was harmless and was just bored and making small talk with the local bartender. She should have been more suspicious. Nice guys were never what they seemed.

"Why?" she croaked out. She gave a small effort to move again and found that her arms had unfrozen themselves. Now she focused on trying to take deep breaths to get her breathing back to normal.

"Why? Why? Do you even know who my sisters were?"

She shook her head, feeling the pain in her back as she tried to move her neck.

"Jane Anne and Sophie Devereaux. My two witch sisters. Imagine my shock to hear that not one, but both of them had died. My sweet little niece, Monique, was found dead too. Supernatural causes. I have no choice but to assume it's because of these damn vampires infesting our town like a plague. But then I wouldn't know, would I? They've cast me out from New Orleans, not having any magic in me. I can only come back now that the witch faction has weakened." He looked at her without any emotion. "Despite everything that's happened, despite being cast out by the coven, I loved both of my sisters dearly and I mean to avenge them their deaths. You are the key."

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out._

She needed to get out of here. She needed to get out of her apartment. She needed to find something to defend herself with when he chased her. Where were her other weapons? Where did she put those damn stars? The other knives? She couldn't think straight. Not while she was breathing like this, almost hyperventilating with fear and taking short little gasps. Her brain couldn't function without oxygen.

_Calm down, Cami. Calm down. Keep him talking. He's not a witch, he is human. Just like you._

She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak slowly. "I still don't understand. Why me? How am I the key?"

He laughed. "Are you distracting me, Camille O'Connell? Very well. I'll explain. At the end of the night you'll be dead anyway, you might as well know why. It is because _you_ are their weakness. I have been observing you for some time now. You are the only unprotected ally they have. You are their only human ally, yet they leave you vulnerable and unprotected. You, who have sold your soul to these fucking vampires, yet they leave you out here to dry! You side with these immoral murderers, these brothers, knowing the damage they've done to us humans. Tell me, what do you get from them, hmm? Are you screwing them both?"

He hovered over her, straddling her, his eyes crazed and excited as he made a move to put his arms around her neck.

"They must be good enough for a whore like you," he said maliciously.

Without thinking, she did the first thing she did out of instinct, she reached out and punched him in the neck with all her might. The way Elijah taught. She felt the immediate shock and ensuing pain in her arms as her fist connected.

His eyes bulged as he choked, momentarily falling to his side. She used that moment to push him off her and crawl out, limping towards the drawer in the living room area where she'd remembered she kept her other weapons. After agonizing moments, she finally reached the drawer, breathing hard, hands frantically groping at the objects in the dark.

Her hands felt around the ninja stars she'd kept stashed in there for safe-keeping. _Hurry, hurry, hurry._ She was able to grab onto two before she felt a hand land heavily on her shoulder.

She shrieked as he forced her to turn around, a manic expression on his face.

Without further warning, he gave her a hard backhand slap. "That's for punching me, bitch!"

"And this is for betraying our kind," he said, plunging the knife, _her _missing knife, on her chest.

She stared in shock, barely able to believe she'd just been stabbed.

_I got stabbed. I got stabbed. I got stabbed. Am I going to die? Shit, shit. Why can't I feel pain? I got stabbed. Oh my God, I got stabbed. He stabbed me with my own knife. I can't die like this. _

_I CAN'T DIE LIKE THIS!_

Her fingers remained clenched on the unsharpened grooves of the stars, suddenly feeling angry at being stabbed by this useless excuse of a human being with her own knife.

He held her close, undoing his belt, looking deep into her eyes, expecting to see pain, expecting to enjoy every moment of torturing her while she bled to death. "And this is for being a…"

"SHUT! UP!" she screamed at him, a woman gone insane from hysteria, and stabbed the two ancient ninja stars as hard as she could on his neck, burying them both deep into his throat.

There was a moment where it felt as if everything moved in slow motion. His eyes went from her hands, to her eyes, a look of disbelief in them.

Blood spurted from his neck and onto her face. She gagged at the blood that accidentally went into her mouth and fell to the floor, but not before seeing the thousand cuts the curse of the stars had across his whole body.

He fell after her, his whole body crumpling on top of hers.

She barely was aware of Klaus entering her apartment minutes after, effortlessly lifting his body from hers, ripping out his heart out of his chest with an angry cry. Although she was quite sure she'd already killed him previously, and taking out his heart would have ensured he was indeed dead, she didn't blame him at all for violently yanking his head off with brute strength and flinging his lifeless body out of her window either.

She barely registered Klaus pulling out the knife out of her chest and applying pressure on the wound over her chest. Barely registered him biting his own wrist and holding it across her mouth to make her drink his blood.

She only remembered being held tightly after that. Remembered the feeling of being carried away by strong arms as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Klaus, you came," she murmured.

He stared so long into her eyes before answering. "No one will harm you now."

She nodded, feeling safe in his arms, and closed her eyes to sleep.

….


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you all for such nice reviews, it was really uplifting to read all the things said. I am so so so happy you like the story. This chapter was written with you Klamille lovers in mind.

**Chapter Five: Residence**

She was floating in space for the longest time. Her body felt weightless, painless, drifting into nowhere. She was weary yet she couldn't feel anything at all. Strange. Was she dreaming? She struggled to open her eyes but couldn't muster the energy to do that. Was she dead? There was something nagging at the back of her mind and she tried to recall what happened, but couldn't. A voice in her head kept saying she was going to be alright, that nothing would harm her again, and she felt so warm and comfortable, she knew without a doubt, that it was true. She stopped trying to worry about things and just relaxed her body.

Much later, she felt her body landing on something soft and comfortable. She imagined bouncing off a cloud and smiled to herself. Perhaps this was heaven. It felt nice. Perhaps she could see Sean. And Kieran. Her parents. She got excited at the thought of being with them once more. They'd all left her, left her fending for herself, left her feeling so lonely. It's been so long, that she felt pure elation at the prospect of being able to see them once more.

She felt someone gently touching her arm, and she realized she could finally open her eyes.

A figure was poised above her, and for one moment, before her eyes had even adjusted to the light, she thought it was an angel waking her up to let her know she could enter the pearly gates. She smiled up at him, readying herself for his speech.

As her vision cleared, she belatedly realized that it was no angel, but Klaus Mikaelson' face above her own.

She blinked again. Nope, definitely not an angel.

"Cami, can you hear me?" he asked softly.

She nodded, not knowing how to feel as she realized this wasn't really the afterlife, and the hope of seeing her family was now diminished into nothing. Her first musings took her aback, making her question whether she really wanted to die that badly.

If she had wanted to die, wouldn't she have let that strange man kill her? If she had wanted to die, wouldn't she have stood there without doing anything? No, Camille O'Connell wanted to live. Even if there was no one there to save her, she had fought her way back into life. And here she was, badly hurt, but still alive.

Klaus spoke again, holding what looked to be a towel in his hand. "There is quite a bit of blood on your face, love," he said, hand tentatively hovering over her face, as if waiting for her permission before touching her.

She nodded once more. As she became more conscious, she realized that the mere act of moving her head made her feel more bone-tired than ever. She could sense parts of her body that were bruised badly, as if a car had just rammed straight through her. And wait, didn't she get stabbed? With a feeling of rising panic, her hand shakily went to the part of her chest she thought was sliced open.

"Your injuries should be healed," he commented, wiping the dried blood off her face as carefully as he could.

"How?" she asked, her voice raspy.

"You were bleeding much too fast from the knife wound, and at that time, I proceeded with what I thought to be the best course of action. I gave you my blood to speed up your healing."

There was silence as she took this in.

He went on, "Unless you die within the next couple of days, and I assure you there is no chance of that happening now that you are under my roof, everything should be fine."

"Thank you. For saving me."

"I received your call earlier and attempted calling you back. Once you didn't answer, I knew something was wrong. You, who have always waited for me to be the one to call, would never call me unplanned, much less call me at that ungodly hour, my instincts told me you must have been in trouble, and I was right. You would have bled to death on that floor if I hadn't come."

She winced as he brushed over a particularly sore spot on her face. "Is he dead?"

"If he weren't the first time you killed him, he is very much so now." he uttered in quiet anger.

He dropped the wash cloth and looked at her. "Your shirt needs to be changed," he stated, motioning to her gruesomely blood-stained pajama top. She shuddered as she recalled the events just hours ago, the violent spurting of blood from her attacker's neck on her face and shirt before she lost all consciousness.

Klaus helped her sit up on the bed, and on autopilot, her hands went to the top button to undo it. They trembled so badly it took her a solid minute to even remove the first one. She was reaching for the next set when he stopped her, wordlessly reaching for the buttons himself.

She stared up at him in surprise as he slowly undid the buttons of her stained top.

His fingers were clinical, efficient, careful not to touch anything but her clothes, but Klaus wasn't really looking at what his hands were doing. He was gazing at her face instead, and the way he stared into her eyes as each button came undone unsettled her.

His face was so close to hers, that she felt his hot breath on her face, saw how truly blue those eyes were. For a second, she wanted to reach out and tenderly cup his cheek in her hand, wanted to reach out and pull him even closer. Instead she merely sat as still as statue, unconsciously holding her breath, aware of each tiny movement of his hands in the process of undressing her.

She finally felt those long fingers brush against the last set of buttons, and with one last look, he stepped back and handed her one of his plain white shirts. She finally breathed easily.

He turned around to give her privacy, and she removed the blood-soaked garment from her body, thankful she could now change into something clean. Each movement caused her to wince, and once again, she felt the soreness in every muscle. Her body was completely healed of all open wounds thanks to the vampire blood, but it was still bruised from the falls she took.

She was fixing the shirt around herself when she finally took notice of where she was. Once again, he'd put her in his bedroom, making her feel guilty about occupying somebody else's space.

"Klaus…" she started, as he turned back to her. "I'm occupying your…"

He silenced her by placing his hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her back until he'd laid her head down on the pillows. She wanted to ask him more questions. What about the body? What about her neighbors? What about her apartment? She had work... she had a class in the morning...

He must have seen all the worries clearly stamped on her face because he reached out to squeeze her arms in a reassuring manner and say, "Rest. Everything will be taken care of. Trust me."

Did she trust him? Did she trust him to take care of all of her worries? Did she completely trust him to make things right in her life?

She found, as she began to drift off to sleep, that the answer was now a resounding yes.

…

As daybreak came, Elijah Mikaelson stealthily entered the compound with a speed undetectable to the human eye.

He had gotten a call over an hour ago from his brother with very specific instructions. Niklaus' tone was quite grave, leading Elijah to believe that whatever needed to be done had to be acted upon as urgently as possible. Niklaus had hung up on him as soon as he uttered five sentences. Elijah quickly got up to dress, and the beautiful woman sleeping in his bed gently stirred. He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and softly spoke to let her know he had something pressing to attend to.

Normally Elijah would have been irked at his demands so early in the morning, but the urgency in Niklaus' voice made him get into action. He had not felt the need to ask any further questions. Not up until forty minutes ago, when he discovered the bloody scenario in Camille's apartment.

Now here he was, back from his little trip. Other lesser immortals would have taken longer to do the task at hand, but Elijah had quite the experience in dealing with clean-ups. He entered the compound's foyer and found Niklaus already seated at the head of the table waiting for him, hands folded together in a deceptively calm manner.

"Is it done?" he asked.

Elijah nodded. "I have compelled the neighbors that woke up about the noise. Fortunately no one had spotted the headless body lying in the middle of the street yet. Both that and the head thrown carelessly in Camille's fireplace have been disposed of. The landlord was... quite easy to persuade to tidy up her apartment."

Niklaus said nothing and merely nodded.

Elijah continued. "I have not asked questions when you've required my assistance so late in the night, Niklaus, but this was quite a bit of an overkill, even for you. Two cursed stars lodged on the neck. Heart openly ripped out from the chest. Head completely severed, a tad grotesque, might I add. Was all this violence necessary to kill one particular human?"

His brother's jaw clenched and for a moment Elijah thought Niklaus would not deign him with an answer.

He eventually did. "When I got there, he had stabbed her on the chest. Not an instantaneously fatal one, but enough to make her in pain for hours and eventually die. His trousers were undone, the bloody bastard was going to force himself on her while she bled to death. If she hadn't held on to those dark objects of Kieran's… I would have quite possibly been too late."

He was silent as he digested this. Suddenly, the excessive use of force to kill felt justified.

His brother spoke once more, "Did you find out who it was?"

"I am waiting for more information, of course. It would not hurt for you to give me more time, his face was barely recognizable after your butchering. Perhaps Camille knows. We might as well ask her."

"Do not, Elijah, unless she wants to speak to you about it, I beg of you not to pester her about what happened."

Elijah looked at him in surprise. "I'd have thought the protection spell that you had the witch place months ago would work."

His brother's mouth set into a grim line. "As did I. Apparently the bloody witch only did a spell to prevent the supernatural from getting in. It says nothing about humans. I should rip her heart out for not even thinking of this complication."

"Was this human your enemy or hers?"

"Quite possibly mine. I do not know. No human should want to harm her unless it was a spurned suitor."

Elijah said nothing, knowing to comment on that possibility would be a grave error on his part.

"I cannot allow her to go back to live by herself," Niklaus finally said.

"And where is she to stay?"

"Here. With us," he said with a finality that brooked no further arguments.

…

She was dreaming of being chased by a masked man with a knife, and she felt the panic in her dream. Felt her inevitable demise. She was running for such a long time, it felt like forever until she'd fallen into a pit, and with a sudden jolt, she woke up.

Her eyes adjusted to the pitch black room, and she felt momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. After a couple of seconds of breathing hard in nervousness, she remembered she was in the Mikaelson compound. She tried to recall the series of events in her head to calm herself down. Klaus had carried her from her apartment to here. The man that tried to kill her was dead. She had been asleep for hours, until it was nightfall once more. And now she was alone in the room, there should be no danger to her. So why was she illogically feeling afraid still?

"Klaus?" she called out, trying to keep her anxiety down. "Klaus?"

He came at once, and she felt, more than saw, his presence in the room.

"I'm…" she trembled, unable to voice her feelings out.

_I'm scared._

He turned the lights on and saw her shivering on the bed, and seeing the genuine fear in her eyes, reached out without hesitation and held her as her tremors subsided.

"I killed a man," she said out loud. "It just hit me now that I… just killed a man." She laughed wildly. "This all must seem stupid to you."

"Killing is never stupid," he said, his face grim. "There are evils in this world, Cami. Evils I prefer you would not have been introduced to, but it is much too late for that. You have set certain things in motion in your life the minute we made each other's acquaintance. The blame lies entirely on me."

She looked at him, taken aback at the regret in his voice. "You've compelled me to leave before, but I chose to stay. It's always been my choice to be involved."

"Has it?"

She said nothing.

He spoke once more, "Do you remember what you told me before? That people are inherently good?"

"I still believe that."

He looked at her expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"This man, he was the brother of Jane Ann and Sophie Devereaux. He was born into a witch family but he didn't have the gift. He was cast out. The only people who have probably been good to him all his life were his sisters, and he heard they were dead. I can't imagine how broken he was. Like me, he came back to his hometown to find out why their deaths were so gruesome. He came back and found the French Quarter overrun by the Original family."

"And he jumped to conclusions that it was us, and not the bloody witch coven."

"He was good, perhaps. He just had a reason…"

Klaus stood up in barely concealed ire. "Do not even think of even defending this man, Camille. Before you take this burden of a lifetime of guilt on your shoulders, have you stopped and thought of what he did? If he was hell-bent on serving revenge against vampires or werewolves or the damned witches, that's where he should have went first! Did he do that? Of course not, because he was a spineless coward who preyed on the weak.. He chose to attack one who cannot defend themselves. One who had absolutely nothing to do with this squabble. He chose to attack you. Or did you forget that part, because I am more than willing to remind you of what happened."

She stared at him, her eyes filled with disquiet.

Klaus went on, pacing the room in irritation. "I am sorely happy you killed him, I am sorely happy he is dead, and I wish to heavens he is rotting down in the fiery fires of eternal damnation! I would kill him a thousand times over if I could. Do not even think of justifying his actions to me-"

"You're right," she said, interrupting him.

"-when you know as well as I… I'm what?" he stopped, looking at her, stunned at her admittance.

"You're right. I was justifying his actions. In the end, he was just a coward. He called me… things." She stared ahead, repeating it to herself. "You're right. He did deserve to die."

Klaus sat down on the chair next to her bed, took her hand and said, "He did. You did well fighting for your life. He would have preyed on somebody else had he succeeded with you."

"Has it always been easy for you?"

"What has?"

"Deciding whose life to end and whose life to spare? How do you know if what you did is right?"

He looked at her in surprise. "I have not really thought about it."

"You're a little too old not to have thought of some things, aren't you?" she said, oddly curious about that.

"I rarely think of human lives. They are merely the means to an end," he said, shrugging.

"i don't think I could ever reach that point in my life. I still keep seeing his face in my head."

"Well you are human, love," he commented dryly. His face suddenly became serious. "It will pass. The first time is always the hardest."

"I don't want to think there will be other times, Klaus."

"Just keep this in mind. There will always be necessary evils that we must do in this world. Evils that we must perform to survive, evils that we must do to keep a balance. You did one of them tonight because you had no choice. It was your life or his. That is all it was, and life will continue to go on."

"That doesn't mean I won't be having dreams about it. I can't imagine being in my room again without picturing what happened last night."

He cleared his throat. "I've decided it is best if you stay here for the meantime."

"What?"

"We've cast a protection spell around your house but it does not work against humans. Only supernaturals."

"When? Why didn't I know?"

"We did it a long time ago, as a precaution. You are no longer safe there. While Elijah and I check to see if any long lost witchy relatives are still seeking revenge, it would be safer for you to be here at the compound."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He clasped her arms and looked straight into her eyes. "Last night, I went inside your apartment, took one look at you lying there, and thought you have joined the dearly departed. Now forgive me if I tell you that this is not up for discussion. I care not to take any more chances."

Live here? With them? Could she do that? She thought about going back to her apartment, of being by herself, knowing anybody could come in. She shuddered inwardly and tried not to let the anxiety take over.

"Okay," she said, conceding. "But only temporarily."

He looked as if he was about to contradict her and then just exhaled sharply.

"I don't want to inconvenience anybody," she said reluctantly.

"You will not, I assure you."

"Where will I stay? You need your room back."

"There are a dozen vacant guestrooms in this compound. We can iron out the details tomorrow. In the meantime, you need to get more rest."

She nodded and he made a move to leave.

"Klaus?" she called, waiting for him to turn around. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For condemning you before for wanting to kill those who wanted to hurt you. Because truthfully, I've never been in that situation. I had no right to judge. Now that I have, I realize that in the end, I will always choose to save myself, to want to end those that would hurt me. Like you."

He smiled humorlessly. "Only the difference between us, love, is that after disposing of my enemies, I will fall asleep at night while you will not."

"I don't believe that all."

"You think me better than I actually am."

"You mean to tell me every death by your hand has been an easy decision to make?"

There was a moment of silence as a dark look passed his face. For a moment, Cami thought he was going to give her a scathing response.

He merely turned off the lamp and said "Good night, Camille," a note of dismissal in his voice as he walked out the door.

"Good night, Klaus," she whispered in the dark.

….

The next morning, Cami had woken up to a pitcher of water by her bedside and a plateful of fresh fruits and delicate-looking pastries. Unless the Mikaelson compound was hiding some house elves, she had a strong suspicion it was Klaus who had left it there before she had woken up.

She'd drank almost all the water like a woman dying of thirst, and forced down some of the fruit and bread so she could get some of her energy back. She felt more refreshed as soon as she broke her fast, and started gingerly testing out her muscles. Everything seemed to be fine except for just a little soreness and dizziness in her head, and she wondered whether that was the vampire blood still running in her veins, or just merely too much action in her normally boring life this week.

She finally was able to stand up and explore a little bit. She went to the master bath that connected to Klaus' bedroom and smiled as soon as she saw how impressive it was. It was large, luxurious, and completely over the top, laid out from floor to ceiling in beautiful dark gray stones, equipped with a spacious walk-in shower and a beautiful black tub made of marble that could easily fit two people.

Normally she'd jump at the chance to take a bath in such a thing of beauty. After all, when did a poor bartender like her get to experience these things? But then the last thing she wanted to be was intrusive with using someone else's bathroom. The last thing she wanted was to overstay her welcome. She made a decision to use the shower instead.

Hurriedly taking off her clothes, she turned the shiny knobs of the shower to check out all of the settings before stepping in. It was completely gorgeous with its huge ceiling shower head, sprinkling her with the warmest, most comfortable water setting she'd ever experienced. It felt like getting soaked on a rainy summer day. She took a look around, enjoying her surroundings. Did she mention there were no cockroaches here? It sure beat taking a shower in her tiny bathroom. At least one thing could be said about the original family, is that they knew how to live.

Taking a clean washcloth from one of his built-in racks, she poured one of those expensive manly-smelling body washes he had and started scrubbing herself. She couldn't help but close her eyes and sigh, enjoying the moment of finally being clean and feeling the warm water trickling down her body.

She was almost done rinsing when she felt that familiar tingling sensation at the back of her neck.

A prickle, more like. The same one she felt at Elijah's place when she trained with him. She tensed up, her eyebrows furrowing with worry. Strange. Could she be feeling extremely paranoid after what happened? Was there someone watching her?

Slowly, she turned. And wished she hadn't.

For a moment, she thought she was imagining things, and she blinked once as if to dispel the mirage before her. But he neither moved nor disappeared.

_Klaus._

It really was him standing by the door, gazing at her, less than ten feet from where she stood naked as the day she was born.

There was an inscrutable expression on his face as he stared, and her frazzled heart jumped to her throat, clumsy hands fumbling and dropping the washcloth. Inwardly she wanted to scream and duck for cover, but it was already too late.

For a split second, their eyes met, her green ones in shock and those normally unreadable blue ones rapidly turning stormy.

Without saying anything, he walked out, fists clenched, leaving her in stunned horror, water swirling around her feet and towards the shower drain.

….

After that unfortunate incident of Klaus accidentally coming in and finding her using his shower, she moved as if in a dream, going through the motions without really knowing what she was doing. She helped herself to his clean white towels, wrapped one around her wet body, got another one, folded it thickly right against her face, and without further ado, just screamed against it.

Thankfully the thick cloth muffled all the inhuman noises she was making. Once she vented out her emotions and took the deepest breath she could possibly take, she went out, stepping into his room once more, and rummaged through his drawers for some clothes she could use while she figured out a way to get her own.

She found a plain gray shirt that looked too unstylish for him to ever use, some matching sweatpants and decided to "borrow" those. She figured Klaus would be ok with her using these since they looked like something he wouldn't be caught dead in. She hurriedly dressed herself, the fear of getting found naked for a second time in a row now tattooed permanently in her mind.

She was toweling her hair dry when she suddenly heard a knock on the door of his room.

_Yes, knocking is always a good idea. It's not like he wasn't around when that was invented._

She quickly crossed the room to open the double doors, feeling nervous on who it could be. She experienced some difficulty pulling the huge doors apart, that by the time she found Elijah standing outside, his normally stoic face already had a note of sourness on it.

"Finally," he said. "That only took you, oh, about eighty-four years."

"That should be all about two minutes for a relic like you then," she retorted.

"Touche. Well, I for one, am glad to see you are still with the living, Camille. I would have hated to lose my worst student."

"I _am_ your only student, Elijah. Nobody else can stand you."

"Consider me deeply hurt."

"Consider me happy about that."

With their usual insults out of the way, his voice took on a serious note, "I saw the body." He nodded at her, as if in approval.

"That was mostly Klaus."

"He did get there with the man already dead."

"I… I didn't really get to do everything you taught. I wish I could have, it probably would have been less painful, but when you're in that actual situation, you can't really think about what to do, can you? You can only react."

He looked at her sharply. "If you are a supernatural, you would have more time to think, more time to strategize how to defend yourself. Time moves much more slowly for us when adrenaline is rushing through our bodies."

"What are you saying, Elijah?"

"You have vampire blood coursing through your veins."

She stared at him, unable to comprehend if he was really broaching this topic. "I…"

"Of course, it is entirely your choice," he shrugged, as if they were just talking about something as nonchalant as favorite foods, instead of the possibility of her turning into a vampire. "I am just pointing it out it if you ever did want to…"

"No," she said, suddenly shaking at being confronted with this. "No, I don't think so."

He stared closely at her, much too closely, as if he knew everything that was running through her mind at that exact moment. As if he knew what the only reason she would even consider turning herself into one.

After a long bout of silence which made her too uncomfortable under his scrutiny, he finally nodded and let the subject slide.

"Your landlord was… kind enough to procure some of your possessions and bring it here. I have had him carry it all in the room you are to stay in. Do you want me to show you?"

She nodded, relieved at the change of the subject.

….

Her room, as it turned out, was located all the way to the other wing of the compound. She was pleased about this fact. It meant she'd have more privacy, away from the main wing which held Klaus', Elijah's and Hayley's rooms. It meant if they had some kind of showdown family drama, she could just simply stay safely tucked in her part of the house without getting involved in the awkwardness.

The walls of her room were a sunny yellow, housing a lovely white queen bed decorated with textured white and yellow throws. By the foot of the bed was a matching white loveseat and a small coffee table. Two drawers in dark wood flanked the bedside, both with antique lamps on top. Cream curtains were pulled back hanging from the two sides of the room's large windows, and a huge painting was placed on the other windowless wall. The rich hardwood floors were covered with a large oriental rug with its yellow, cream, and green tones, and there were big potted plants in the two corners of her room. It was half the size of the master bedroom, but the sunlight streamed unobstructed through her windows, making it much brighter and airier than the rest of the rooms she'd been in the compound.

"Unfortunately there is no en-suite, you would have to make do with the bathroom outside, but that is solely yours," Elijah stated.

"It's perfect," she breathed, giving him a huge smile. "Did you do this?"

"Of course not. This was Niklaus. He has an obsession with decorating rooms, it must be that…" he waved his hand dismissively, "artiste side."

"It's positively lovely," she said, imagining being able to read a book with all that natural light streaming in the room.

He looked at her with distaste, taking care to aristocratically eye her ill-fitting clothes up and down. "Well, we both know your tastes are a tad bit... unrefined."

"Oh, shut up, Elijah."

….

She immediately moved into her new space the same hour Elijah showed it to her. It was the perfect size and feel. While bigger rooms made her feel uncomfortable with all that unnecessary space, this simple room with its bright and cheery feel, was just right.

Her landlord had thankfully included some books with her belongings. That must have been by Elijah's compulsion because her landlord looked like he never would crack a book open of his own free will. She decided to just stay in today and catch up on some reading, calling in at work and letting them know she had come down with something. Hopefully that would buy her some time until she felt things were back to normal.

As she stretched out her feet and turned to the first page of her novel, it briefly crossed her mind how strange the situation she was. Here she was, a grown woman, but she was under someone else's roof. And not just someone else, but Klaus Mikaelson, original hybrid, sometimes kind, sometimes a jerkward. A man she was beginning to recognize that she had feelings for. She had been hesitant about the whole thing, thinking it was a bad idea, and the only reason she had agreed to it last night was because she felt the fear of going back to her apartment, living on her own, and getting attacked once more.

Now she was second-guessing if what she did was right. She didn't know whether to be thrilled at the prospect that she was living in the same place as him, or depressed because she knew it in her heart that this was going to be one-sided and result in a lot of hurt.

And to add insult to injury, he saw her naked this morning.

As if the entire situation couldn't get any worse. She sighed, took one of the big throws from her bed, and muffled her screams against it one more time.

….

"It is quite unseemly to be peeping on guests at this time of the night, Niklaus," Elijah commented, walking in his brother's room without so much as a sound.

He only had a view of his brother's back as he stared out his window, but he could imagine the intensive eye-rolling that was happening as of the moment.

He went on, "Is she aware that you have a perfect vantage point from your window to hers?"

"Elijah, if you have come here for the sole purpose of annoying me, consider it a job well done."

Elijah chose to ignore him and went rifling through his brother's papers and books, thinking he'd again stolen one of Elijah's more valuable books. While searching, he casually stated, "I asked her today if she wanted to be turned."

He sensed his brother grow deathly still at his statement. He turned towards Elijah, jaw clenched tightly, "You what?"

"She had your blood running through her body. I have to admit, I was curious to know what she would tell me. Do not tell me you are not…"

"How dare you!"

He raised his eyebrows. "How dare I? Would it not be easier for all of us if she did turn?"

His brother paced the room in anger. "You forget yourself! It is my blood, Elijah. Mine. My blood, my choice, my..." he trailed off.

"Your what? She is not yours to do with as you please."

"But she is mine to protect," he stated, trembling with anger. "If you turn her…"

Niklaus paused, lost in thought, as if considering all the possibilities, if he had not already done so. Elijah presumed he had already thought of all of this. Of course he would have. He could never be one step ahead of him. If he had a sliver of thought, he would be pretty certain that Niklaus had already considered it, dissected it, and already found holes in that thought. For him to not even think about the prospect of turning Camille into a vampire, of siring her, was quite impossible.

He did not know what was stopping Niklaus though. He could never understand it. She was here, already involved in their affairs. It would be safer to make her into one of them and welcome her into the family. She would be rid of her slow, clumsy human body, and she would be stronger as a vampire, she would be able to defend herself.

Most importantly, they had Camille's loyalty. She had a brave warrior's heart, it was not even a question of who she would side with, who she would fight for.

Out of the corner of his eye, he finally saw Niklaus move, sighing deeply, briefly closing his eyes and opening them again, as if in pain.

"Elijah, do not even think of turning her."

"Why?"

"Because if you turn her, you will destroy the most beautiful thing about her. And I will forever despise you for it."

….

It was well past dinner time when she went out of her room. She felt like she was hiding, and that was probably in some ways, true. She wasn't really looking forward to seeing Klaus after their last interaction. Had her stomach not been growling with hunger, she could have waited ten years until she no longer felt embarrassed by the mere recollection of it. She thought longingly of getting a mini-fridge in her side of the compound. Maybe she could work that in somehow. This was exactly the problem of living with other people, that she constantly had to interact with them, whether she wanted to or not.

She sighed as her stomach growled once more, thinking she had to find the kitchen soon or she would become a raving lunatic from the hunger. Gathering her courage, she cautiously opened her door and peeked out. Seeing no one right outside her door, she padded from her room towards the main wing of the house, careful not to run into anyone and be as quiet as possible.

Unfortunately for her, the kitchen lights were turned off, and she bumped her hip on a bar stool with a loud "oof". To which after, she accidentally stubbed her toe on the trashcan, releasing an expletive that would have her mother spinning in her grave.

Her eyes finally adjusted to the outline of the fridge. Bingo! She opened the door, the light from the fridge illuminating the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure sitting in the corner, causing her to give out a yelp of surprise.

"You are loud enough to wake the dead, love," came Klaus' voice from the corner.

Her heart started beating a hundred times a minute, and she calmed down enough to reach for the light switch on the wall. She found him seated on one of the bar stools, brooding in the corner with a large bottle of whiskey.

"Would turning on the lights kill you?" she asked annoyed. It was the first time she'd seen him after the shower incident, and her stupid heart wasn't slowing down anytime soon, making her cranky.

"I assumed you knew I was here, seeing as you weren't trying to be quiet at all," he said sardonically.

"I _was _trying to be stealthy, it's just dark," she reasoned, sounding like a petulant child even to her ears.

"I'm afraid to see what being loud to you means like then."

"And I… am going to ignore that because I'm hungry."

He motioned his hands for her to go ahead and open the fridge and without further ado, she did, helping herself to a wedge of cheese, some fruit and beer. She grabbed a box of crackers she found lurking on the counter and sat beside him, contentedly munching.

He glanced sideways at her, apparently perturbed she was starving. "Cami, consider this your home as well. I don't know if Elijah has told you this, but you have access to any part of the house as you please."

"Elijah? All I remember was him critiquing my taste in decorations. And fashion choices," she said sadly, looking down at her baggy gray attire.

"Well you know Elijah and his everlasting love affair with the mirror, you won't find him in sweats." He downed the contents of his glass, and it was with care he spoke when he asked her the next question. "Did _you_ like the room?"

"I did, very much so. It was perfect," she said, giving him a genuine smile. It was true, seeing the room made her happy.

He looked surprised at the expression that lit up her face, and couldn't help but give her a small smile as well. "I thought you would."

He refilled his glass and took another generous swig of the whiskey. She, in the meantime, opened her bottle of beer, attempting to slow down her chewing lest she do another embarrassing thing like choke from too much food or something equally stupid.

He set his glass down, seemingly just glaring at it wordlessly. She noticed the nape of his neck was quite flushed, and she wondered exactly how much he'd had to drink.

"Klaus, you…"

"Earlier I intruded on your privacy. I didn't expect you to have been moving around so soon, is all," he said gravely, staring intently at the glass in his hand.

She blushed at his acknowledgement of the earlier situation and drank her beer, trying to wet her dry throat. "I… you have a very beautiful bathroom, I couldn't help myself."

He suddenly murmured, "I could say the same thing for something else right now."

"What?"

Instead of answering her, he drank more of his whiskey, looking much like a man trying to drown his sorrows. She wondered what was plaguing him this time.

He started, "When you asked me last night, Cami, if every death by my hand has been an easy decision to make…"

"Yes, I remember," she said.

"I had to kill my father to protect Hope."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Which father?"

"My real father, Ansel. If you will recall, I was borne of a tryst between my mother and her werewolf lover. My mother resurrected him from the dead in hope that spending time with my real father would tempt me to live the life I was supposed to live, before we were all turned into the monstrosities we are today."

She looked at him in alarm. "And you ended up killing him?"

"It had to be done. He knew too much about Hope. I could not trust him with the news that my daughter was alive, knowing he could betray me anytime to Esther. I would never have forgiven myself if I had allowed him to live, if my heart was so soft as to allow him in my life. I never would have forgiven myself if, by my own folly, something happened to my daughter."

Her heart went out to him. For him to make that choice between saving his daughter and the chance to get to know his biological father, she couldn't imagine the agony he had to have gone through. She had met Mikael firsthand, had known the suffering Klaus had gone through growing up to be rejected by such a father. For him to get the chance to know the real one which should have been in his life in the first place, only to lose it once more, was probably one of the most painful things he had to endure.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"The important thing is protecting my child," he shrugged, turning his attention back to his drink. "That is all that matters, nothing else."

"I see," she said.

He turned to her suddenly. "Do you? Do you really understand what a risk it is to let someone else in?" He looked in her eyes with such intimacy, and she knew then that they were no longer talking about Ansel.

_Do you really understand what a risk it is to let someone else in?_

She felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach, and wanted to answer him. Wanted to tell him, yes, she understood, completely, totally and utterly, the risk of being vulnerable to someone who could hurt you so easily. The trust you put in their hands for them to accept you as you wholly are, without judgement, without bias. The belief that they would never, even after years, turn around and use everything they know against you, to betray you. How could she not completely understand? She'd trusted one too many times, been burnt one too many times. It was the story of her life, believing in the goodness instead of choosing to see the evil.

She smiled ruefully. "We're all afraid, Klaus. Each and everyone of us. We're all afraid of getting hurt. But that's life, isn't it? Falling down and getting hurt. Loving, failing, hurting, hoping, betraying, trusting. It's a mess. It would probably be easier to just close off everyone else."

"It is for me."

"But you know what the downside of that way is?"

"What is the downside?"

"You miss out on the good stuff," she said, gazing at him warmly. She stood up, leaned towards him, and gave him the softest kiss on the cheek, so soft it felt like a whisper against his face.

"Good night, Klaus," she said tenderly.

She walked out of the kitchen, leaving a stunned Niklaus sitting there for quite some time.

….


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for all the reviews, you folks are pretty awesome and you make my heart full while reading your feedback. Getting over my block wasn't easy, but I finally did it. Thanks for sticking through with me and the story, and being ever so patient for an update. I realize that there is a lack of… physical stuff happening but that problem will be solved soon. May the writing gods smile upon me.

**Chapter Six: Homecoming**

Rebekah Mikaelson was not amused. Not the least bit. She was, in fact, currently bordering on pissed on her first day back at the compound after being away for such a long time. Here she was, desperately needing a long hot shower after all the traveling she'd done, but what was she to find as soon as she'd eagerly shed off her clothes and turned the knob?

Cold water all over.

Five minutes of running the water and still not a sign of it changing temperature. Someone had obviously used up all the hot water. And if her senses were to be relied on, she thought she'd heard Nik's shower turn off just ten minutes ago.

Of course it would be Nik. It was always Nik, getting the lion's share, even down to the damn hot water. And what was a tired female to do? Was she to subject herself to the horrors of taking a cold shower? Was this not the 21st century for God's sake? She didn't spend hundreds of years daggered in a box only to resort to such ancient and barbaric measures of cleaning one's self when the pleasures of hot showers have already been invented.

"Bloody hell, Nik," she muttered, scowling as she donned her black bathrobe, hell-bent on giving her annoyingly selfish brother a piece of her mind. Yes, over hot water. It was a damn bloody job, but someone had to do it.

With a couple of angry strides, she stopped in front of his door, rapping her knuckles against the wood rapidly. "Nik! Come out here I need to talk to you! Nik!"

No answer. She knocked again, louder this time. Tapping her foot impatiently, she screamed on top of her lungs, "Niklaus Mikaelson! I swear to God if you don't come out-"

He finally opened his door, staring down at her with eyebrows raised. "Ah yes, I thought those were your lovely dulcet tones I was hearing, Rebekah."

"I cannot believe you used up all the hot water in this house! Of all the inconsiderate, selfish prig things to do-"

"Is that why you were knocking on my door like someone was dying?"

"Yes!" she almost yelled in exasperation. "How am I supposed to take a bloody…"

"I imagine the same way you've done the first couple of hundred years you've always been bathing. With water and soap."

"You are a pain in the arse, you know that?"

"Welcome back, dear sister," he grinned, looking all too pleased with himself. As if pissing her off her first day back was some sort of accomplishment. She grunted in disgust. Perhaps it was. This was Nik after all.

An hour later, after finally getting the hot water back again and being able to shower and put on a set of clothes that weren't completely covered in dust, she went downstairs to look for her brothers. She sensed Elijah somewhere in the vicinity, and was surprised he was even in the compound given that he had his own place to stay across the river. She shrugged, making a mental note to ask him about that later. Whatever the reason was, she was glad that Elijah was here, because it was a trial to deal with Nik by herself. It was always better when Elijah was around.

She'd dropped by Hope's nursery the first thing when she got home, so she knew where the baby was as of this moment. And then there was one other presence that was vaguely familiar but she couldn't quite place. Hayley? No, this wasn't Hayley. As far as she knew, the wolf queen was still at the bayou.

During these moments, Rebekah missed her original body with her hyper aware smell and hearing. Having a vampire body made her feel more secure because of all the keen sensing capacities that went with it, as well as the knowledge that she could just beat up anybody who came after her. But, she'd made her choice, and she felt in the end, with this witch's body, she could start anew, and that was ultimately the better decision.

She found Klaus in the dining area, surveying the huge oak table, already groaning under the weight of numerous plates of food on top of it. It was a breakfast buffet of fresh fruit, the most scrumptious delicate-looking pastries, a huge array of eggs cooked in different ways, multiple kinds of jams and butters. On to the side, there was a compelled man in a suit, waiting to serve freshly brewed coffee.

"Well, this certainly almost makes up for the hogging of all the hot water today," she commented, reaching to grab a handful of juicy blueberries from the bowl. "Almost."

Nik wagged his finger at her. "Tsk, little sister, Mother would be appalled at such manners. If she were here of course. I would advise you to wait on eating before our guest arrives."

"Our guest?" she asked, suddenly feeling nervous. Were there anymore long lost relatives that Nik had invited? Was he again planning to wage a war with a different faction today?

_Oh God. _Her first day back and already full of surprises.

"I've invited her for breakfast."

"Her?"

He looked pointedly at someone behind her, and Rebekah turned around.

Camille O'Connell. The human girl came down the stairs from the other side of the compound, positively glowing in a white sundress, unable to take her eyes off her brother. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nik taking her in as much as she did him.

_Ahhhhh. Interesting. _

She tried her damndest to keep the sly smile out of her face.

Upon nearing them, Cami finally noticed Rebekah standing there and she gave out an unladylike yelp, "Rebekah!"

Now unable to keep herself from full-blown grinning because of that enthusiastic greeting and contagiously warm smile that Cami was bestowing upon her, she reached and hugged the human girl tightly. "It's so nice to see you again, Cami. I'm glad you're still alive."

"Why, were you taking bets on when I'd kick the bucket?"

"Well, people who associate with us Mikaelsons tend to have a history of…"

"Rebekah, hush," Nik warned.

Cami gave him a wary glance and turned to back to her. "When did you get back?" she asked.

"Just this morning, in fact."

"Where did you go?" she asked curiously, and then seemingly realizing she sounded too intrusive, added, "That is, if you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all." She'd been gone for months. Of course people were going to ask her where she was. "Just here and there. Mostly the tropics for the beaches and that lovely weather. I've a ton of interesting stories, but that can be discussed some other time," she said, suddenly intrigued as to how Cami had come to be in the compound. "I'm more interested in you! You're officially staying here then? Oh come to think of it! It's no wonder Nik has to take such long showe-"

Nik rudely interrupted her by saying, "Ladies, please, shall we sit down? Everything is getting cold."

"Oh sod off, Nik," she grumbled but sat down anyway.

Cami smiled at him in pity and proceeded to sit. Nik sat beside her and they began to eat.

"Klaus, I hope you're paying this poor man for serving us coffee," Cami commented.

"If it makes you feel better, Camille, the barista is well-compensated. I merely do not wish for him to repeat what he sees and hears."

She looked dubiously at him, and decided not to pursue the subject. But Rebekah could tell from that gleam in her eye, that she'd let Nik have it later when it was just the two of them. The prospect of someone metaphorically grabbing her brother by the ear gave her so much glee, she had to stifle a laugh and pretend she was choking on some waffles instead. She wasn't surprised when Nik glared at her.

"Well, I'm hoping we can make a dent on this breakfast. Looks like a feast for ten sumo wrestlers," the human girl said.

Rebekah replied, "Oh Cami, aren't you used to us by now? We never do anything half-ar… in half measures. Like those eggs, for instance. Look at them! Just sitting there in a humongous pile. I suppose my brother never stopped to think, hmmm, maybe this is too much eggs for three people."

Nik stopped buttering his toast to answer her. "I did not, in fact. And just for your benefit, I enjoyed how these little eggs sacrificed their lives so that I could have an overly abundant breakfast spread to my liking. Besides, I wasn't sure if Camille had a secret love for farm fresh eggs and I refuse to make her uncomfortable as our guest. It is entirely unnecessary."

"How did you know," Cami said dryly, "I happen to enjoy having two dozen eggs to myself each morning. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"See, there you go," he said, rudely pointing his butter knife at Rebekah. "Can you pass the marmalade please?"

"God, Nik. You are as obnoxious as ever before. Glad to see nothing has changed."

"Is that your way of saying you've missed me, Rebekah?"

"It's my way of saying after a thousand years you could, maybe, I don't know, grow up."

Cami snorted at her comment. "Hear, hear."

"Why, I'll have you know, I don't appreciate being ganged up on. Blood thirsty wenches, the both of you," he complained, yet a tiny smile hinted at his lips.

Rebekah tried to hide her own smile. She hadn't seen her brother this cheerful since a vengeful murdering spree. And she had a feeling the reasons for this mood were something far less gruesome than that.

…

Now that Rebekah was home, Camille O'Connell found herself enjoying her stay more with the Mikaelsons. Initially, without the companionship of the strong female Mikaelson, she found herself prone to getting caught in between an Elijah and Klaus showdown. And more often than not, while she was trying to figure out a way on how to make a quick exit with the two of them arguing heatedly with her in the room, she'd find her name getting called, more commonly by Klaus, demanding to tell them who she thought was right in one of their arguments.

And not wanting to take a side or even say anything, usually because she found herself mentally agreeing with Elijah more, she'd make up a quick excuse and run back to her room or Hope's nursery to avoid these awkward situations.

Upon Rebekah's return, however, a more calming presence came with her, and Cami found herself utterly at ease just hanging out with another female in the house. She sensed Rebekah felt the same about her as well, now that they shared the connection of having the unfortunate experience of living with two bickering bull-headed overgrown vampire brothers.

One time they were both seated in the living room reading when they heard heated insults in angry male voices, going back and forth. Whatever they were arguing about, she suspected it wasn't that serious. It usually never was.

"Don't mind them, Cami," Rebekah said in a bored voice, flipping through the pages of one of her fashion magazines. "It's their way of showing each other affection. I wouldn't be bothered."

And she wasn't.

Time passed by quickly at the Mikaelson household and she found herself settling into a routine. One thing she was grateful about was that she could finally step outside once more without checking over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her. During the afternoons she resumed going to class, and at night, she started picking up on her regular work schedule at the bar. It helped that the compound was much nearer than her apartment ever was, and she felt safer walking at night, knowing the place was a stone throw's away.

During the mornings that someone actually prepared breakfast, she would see all three Mikaelsons at once. She grew fond of the light-hearted bickering, it almost felt like getting adopted into a bigger, louder family. But despite all their bluster and sass, anybody could tell they all loved each other.

Most of her mornings though, were spent with her eating a bowl of cereal on the kitchen island by herself. And she valued these moments that she could just be alone without having to watch what she would say or do, and just read a book while eating breakfast to her leisure. After she was done, she'd spend more of her free time during the morning in Hope's nursery. The baby was always glad to see her, and she could tell Hope loved those moments Cami would sit on the rocking chair with Hope on her lap, and read to her while she listened.

It really didn't matter what material she read, Hope seemed to enjoy listening to even the most boring psych books that she had to catch up on for school, and would quietly just sit there and look up at her with such a solemn expression, head tilted to the side as if she understood what Cami was saying.

There were times, however, when she'd enter the nursery to find Klaus already sitting there, playing with Hope. The sound of the baby's happy gurgling would make her smile, and Klaus would look up to see her and give her this tiny grin, as if to say "I'm sorry I can't help it, she's so cute" and she'd back away and retire to her room to read instead. She knew how he valued these precious moments to spend with his daughter, and she understood how important it was for them to have their time alone together.

One morning, she found him already sitting there on the rocking chair, reading Hope the book she gave for her first birthday. She smiled at the sound of Klaus reading a children's story, and started backing away and closing the door, when he called her name.

"Yes?"

"Stay, will you?"

She didn't even know exactly why, but she felt a rush of pleasure at being invited to join them, and she reached out to hold Hope. He gave her a smile and handed his precious cargo to her, watching both of them with a curious sort of expression as Cami showered Hope with kisses.

"You usually read to her, don't you?" he suddenly said.

"Yes I do, how did you… oh, you could hear huh?"

"Of course."

A sudden realization dawned on her. "Oh my God. All of it?"

He tried to stifle his smile and those dimples popped up. "I love listening to you talk about abnormal psychology to my daughter. Especially the little sound effects you add-"

"I hate you right now, you know that, right?"

"I honestly have no idea why. I was complimenting your uhh… talent," he said with a straight expression on his face.

"Keep talking crap, buster," she said, frowning. She turned to the Hope instead and tried to whisper to her how much of a jerk her father was, and if anything she should know he was a bad example and know not to take after him. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Klaus discreetly wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

She was about to say something scathing when her phone started vibrating inside her pocket, making her heart almost jump. She did her best to ignore the vibrations, and continued to play with Hope without saying a word. Klaus must have heard it for he stilled and looked at her closely, probably wondering why she wasn't answering her phone.

"Hiding from someone?" he asked casually.

She gave out an awkward laugh and handed him Hope back. "Not really. Although I should probably get it."

He stared at her for some time, and she had the crazy feeling he knew she was lying. Probably because he could hear her heart beat going extra fast right now. Damn these supernaturals and their stupid special senses. It was like being on a lie detector all the time while having a conversation.

"I'll catch you guys later," she said, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

She left the nursery and went back to her room. Once she was in the safety and privacy of her room without Klaus looking at her with too much interest, she now stared at her glowing phone screen.

Missed Call from Niall McAllister.

2 missed calls. 2 voicemails.

She went through the old messages, her thumb hovering on the REPLY button.

[Cami, I'm in New Orleans. Let's meet.]

[I went to your apartment and you weren't there. Where are you?]

[Have you not been getting my texts?]

[Please answer my calls, I'm getting worried.]

Really, she didn't know where to begin. How to answer his texts without making him more worried. Or how to answer his texts without getting a huge lecture, or a huge deal made out of this whole kooky situation where she was in right now. It's not that she didn't want to see him, God knows how much she'd wished he'd been there to keep her company all throughout everything, but he wasn't.

Niall was one of the constants in her life during her childhood, especially when their parents died. He, along with Kieran, served as their support system during those days. He was like the older brother she looked up to, the one who always looked out for her and Sean. Both of them were completely devastated when he had to move back to Ireland to inherit his parents' business. And Niall hadn't bothered to keep in touch with either her or Sean, so she assumed it was because he wasn't planning to return at all, and that he was too busy with his new life. The next time she saw him was during Sean's funeral service, and briefly at that.

So yes, she felt a little pissed that he was now apparently back in NOLA, demanding to see her, when he wanted to see her.

Talk about wrong timing. But her sense of guilt and obligation took over. It was completely wrong to hide from him, wasn't it. She knew exactly why she wasn't ready to hit that REPLY button just yet. Because she knew what Niall would say when he found out what situation she was in.

He wouldn't like it at all. Not one bit.

….

Elijah Mikaelson was seated in the living room, playing one of Bach's greatest concertos. He tried to close his eyes to let the music flow through him, to let it take him to a good place. Oh the sweet sound of those perfectly-tuned violins, he imagined the bows sweeping back and forth as the music built up to its crescendo. It was completely spiritual, to listen to classical music, all those instruments coming together to make such beautiful sounds, he could almost forget everything evil in this world, he could almost forget everything about himself. Nothing else existed, save for this world of music, this world of peace and harmony.

Out of the blue, a nagging image from last night came unbidden to his mind, and after that thought, he couldn't anymore find that mental state to relax. He sighed in frustration, eventually giving up his attempts to meditate, and was now working himself up to an annoyance he was finding difficult to control. He tried to calm himself down, but grew even more angry at the thought that even during his absence, Niklaus was bothering Elijah's relaxation time.

He was fast running out of patience with his brother, whom he sometimes could believe to be the smartest man on earth, but most times, proved himself to be a complete and utter imbecile in some matters. He tried to resist the strong urge to imagine himself strangling his moronic brother and having the ability to dagger him and leave him in a box for a century or two. Note, tried to resist, he was, of course, far from perfect. He let himself daydream about actually doing it, and curbed the impulse to smile like a lunatic in enjoyment. Ah, if only. A man can dream.

Where was he anyway?

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table waiting for Niklaus to come out of his room to give him a piece of his mind. And he knew that Niklaus always came out of his room at this time. Came out to pour himself a glass or two of bourbon. Or scotch. Or whiskey. Didn't matter what drink, he would always come out. Eventually.

And sure enough, like clockwork, Niklaus sauntered out of his room and towards the living room to pour himself a drink, looking a bit pleased with himself.

"We need to talk," Elijah began.

He saw his brother's eyebrow rise at his tone. "Fire away. I always look forward to these… lectures of yours."

"What are you doing?"

"To what you are referring to, Elijah, I do not know. I am not a mind reader, perhaps you could regale me with a few more details, I might have more of a care."

"You know exactly what it is I am asking about."

Niklaus sighed, "I unfortunately have more important things that occupy my mind, so no, I do not…"

Elijah damn near exploded at him feigning innocence. "I do not have time for your games, Niklaus! Let me be the voice of reason when you so obviously cannot think for yourself."

His brother looked taken aback, but gave a shrug as if to tell him to go on.

"I have asked before if you wanted Camille turned, and may I remind you that you so adamantly refused to do so. Which makes what you are doing dallying with a mortal. What was it you have continuously said about Jackson again and again, Niklaus? "He is not one of us, he's mortal." Enlighten me, what is your intention with Camille exactly?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Elijah, but to be clear, there is no so-called 'dallying' going on."

"You say that yet you were in her room last night while she slept," Elijah sneered.

Niklaus stared at him, stunned at his statement. Elijah could see it in his eyes that his brother didn't expect him to know this.

He quickly recovered, saying, "Are you watching me now, Elijah? I have no reason to explain myself to you, but on this instance, just so you know, Camille screamed from a nightmare and I naturally went there to make sure she was fine. She never woke, she wasn't aware I was there the whole time."

"Please," Elijah said contemptuously. "Will your excuses be never ending? When are you going to admit your feelings for this woman?"

Niklaus took a swig of his drink and gave him a slow smile. "I see what this is about. It's because of Hayley, isn't it? I've torn the woman you love away from you and had her marry somebody else. Well look at the noble Elijah now, looking for a little payback."

"This has nothing to do with Hayley. And even so, even if by some small chance this had anything to do with her, you know as well as I do that Hayley is immortal. She does not offer the same complications as your relationship with Camille does. You must be blind to what feelings she wears on her sleeve. And as much as I appreciate everything she has done for you, brother, for me, for this family, you must know that there could be no happy ending for her in this story. Especially if you were never even once, planning to turn her. If you truly cared for her, you would know what it is that I speak of."

He saw his brother's expression momentarily switch to something else, and for a brief second, Elijah felt he was seeing a side of Niklaus he had not seen in years. Something he thought was long gone after he'd first turned into a werewolf, before Elijah had betrayed him when he'd had a hand in tying him up. It sent chills down his spine to witness such an expression of anguish once more in Niklaus' face. But it went away as soon as it came, and a hardened look very quickly replaced it.

"You will ruin her life, Niklaus," he said quietly.

His brother chose to study his glass of bourbon instead, gazing intently at the amber liquid he was swirling. He didn't look up at Elijah as he mockingly said, "Ah, there it is. The ghost of Tatia coming back up from the grave."

"Desist making this about me at once. This is my attempt at having a decent conversation with you and you insist on acting like-"

"A bastard? Which is what I am, of course. I am the life-ruiner, as you've aptly put."

"I do not wish to wound you, despite having good reason to. You, who have not spared me the pain of having a love taken from me. You, who have pettily rejoiced in vengeance to do these things to me. But because I want what is best for you, Niklaus, I will warn you to spare you the same kind of pain I am in. For one day, she will look at you and you will see it in her eyes that desire that she'd wished she led a normal life. That she would have gotten married, raised her own children, or seen her grandchildren. That she would have been spared the pain of living in this world, in our world. And as she grows older and her youth passes her while you remain the same, you would slowly see this pain in her eyes become more pronounced as the years go by. I do not think you want to do this to her, for you will not be able to give her what she wants, what she needs, and you will hate yourself even more for it."

Niklaus stared out the window for a while, not allowing Elijah to see what was in his eyes. He sat down, waiting for him to say something, anything, an indication that he understood what Elijah spoke of.

"You are not telling me anything I already do not know, Elijah," he said finally.

"And what is it that you do know?"

"That we are indeed the definition of cursed," he said, swallowing the last of his drink. "Always and forever."

….

It was one of those weeks that Hayley Marshall had come back to the Mikaelson compound. Since Hayley now was taking care of Hope full time while she was back, Rebekah told herself that now was a good time more than ever to leave the compound and get some much needed fresh air. She'd cajoled Cami into coming with her because shopping trips were a hundred percent better with another girl around. She couldn't remember the last time she had a girlfriend with her to tell her what looked absolutely beastly on her figure or not. Besides, she liked Cami's tastes in clothes.

So off they went, arm in arm, talking crap about Elijah and Nik the whole way, laughing at the random men outside trying to sweet-talk and impress them when they walked blocks and blocks to Rebekah's favorite shops downtown. And despite the whole previously messy business with Marcel dating Cami, there really was no bad blood between her and the human girl. Camille could amazingly put anybody at ease, whether she was aware of it or not. She didn't know whether it was the combination of self-deprecating humor and down-to-earth unaffectedness, but she was beginning to like this girl a lot. She felt like she could talk about mundane things such as fashion and men's bodies, and switch it up to more serious topics about the supernatural, and Cami would be right there with her, from which colors from this season looked good with their skin tones, to the questions of morality that being a vampire faced.

They'd ended their girls' day out by stopping at a frozen yogurt shop, and as Rebekah tasted that first spoonful of yogurt, she blissfully closed her eyes and thought she couldn't remember a more relaxing day she'd had in New Orleans.

"So tell me, Cami," Rebekah said, spooning more of the fro-yo into her mouth. "Are you in love with my brother?"

The question made the poor girl nearly choke on her food, and Rebekah had to pat her back with a little bit more force than necessary to make her alright. She finally stuttered, "W...what?"

"Oh come now, you can't possibly not notice this… thing… going on."

"I…"

"You know, if you were truly innocent, you would've asked me 'which brother are you referring to, Rebekah?' But since you didn't, I am assuming you know who it is…"

Cami sighed. "It's too late to ask that now, isn't it."

"Quite."

"Then the answer is yes. Yes. I am," she said defeatedly. "But then why bother asking me if you already knew?"

"It is evident to me, I merely wanted to hear it from your mouth."

"Does he know?"

"Who, Nik? He's as thick as two short planks when it comes to matters of the heart. But I can tell he umm…"

Cami looked at her inquisitively.

Rebekah shook her head, unwilling to reveal too much of her suspicions. "We should head back."

Thankfully, Cami didn't pursue her train of thought, and they both walked back to the compound, hands full of shopping bags, heads full of unsaid thoughts.

As they entered the compound, they met Hayley by the stairs, carrying Hope.

"Oh good haul, I love that shop!" Hayley exclaimed, looking at the bags they were dragging along. She shook her head, as if suddenly remembering something. "I was going to ask, are either of you expecting guests, by the way?"

"No, I don't think so. Not me," Rebekah said. "Cami?"

Cami shook her head. "Why?"

"Someone is coming."

"Someone?"

Hayley sniffed the air, eyes narrowing. "Yes, walking towards here right now. I can tell with the way he strides with a purpose, he's headed here. About twenty feet away now. Human, male. Early thirties maybe?" She breathed in again. "Expensive cologne."

They all turned around, waiting for this man to appear.

"Get Hope out of here," Rebekah commanded Hayley, unsure if they were about to face a dangerous situation.

Hayley was running up the stairs when the man finally showed himself and stepped towards the gate.

The first things Rebekah noticed were his dark hair and his height, at least six-feet, and a physique built to put Greek gods to shame. Next came what he wore, a crisp white button down dress shirt with the sleeves folded up to the forearms, tucked in well-fitting dark jeans and black leather shoes. If one thing could be said, the man knew how to dress for his body.

As he got closer to her and Cami, she noticed the well-defined jaw covered by a perfectly groomed five-o-clock shadow. She saw those slate-gray eyes, like the color of dark clouds converging before a huge storm.

"Niall," Cami whispered, dropping all of her bags on the ground and giving the man a weak wave.

"You know this guy?" Rebekah questioned incredulously.

Hayley stared at the both of them, forgetting that she was supposed to be hiding Hope in case this man posed a danger, but upon hearing Cami knew this stranger, the mission was now forgotten.

"Let me guess, Cami, the infamous on-again-off-again?" Rebekah said wryly.

With all the stress evident on her face, the joke completely flew over Cami's head. She'd been staring at him too in shock (or admiration, Rebekah couldn't really tell), but then turned back to frantically tell Rebekah, "He's a childhood friend. I'll explain later. Could you guys um… keep unfriendly entities from killing him?"

"I'll try. Can't promise anything, really. You know how it is 'round these parts."

Cami ran to the gate where Niall had stopped, not entering further. He was apparently not at ease to enter the compound without permission despite seeing Cami there, and he kept glancing at both Rebekah and Hayley with wary eyes.

Rebekah went up to where Hayley was, where the hybrid had an infinitely better view of the proceedings, and like gossipy old hens, they shamelessly peered down from the balcony, not even bothering to hide their desire to stare at Cami's friend.

"Hubba, hubba," she commented sideways to Hayley. "She never mentioned she knew fine male specimens like this."

They continued to stare, noting the way the man smiled roguishly at Cami.

Rebekah sighed deeply, "How is she still standing normally right now after being blasted with a smile like that?"

"I don't understand it either. I'm all the way up here from a distance and I'm melting."

"For God's sake, Hayley, you're a married woman now, pull yourself together."

"What Jackson doesn't know won't hurt him. And you should talk, Rebekah. Aren't you a little too old to be gawking? At least _I _feel some shame."

Both women stopped breathing upon seeing the man pull Cami close and give her the tightest hug in history. Definitely lasting longer than five seconds to be sure. Not that Rebekah was counting. Oh what she would give to trade places with Camille right now…

"What are you two biddies chin-wagging about on this lovely day," Nik's voice suddenly came up behind them.

They both turned around simultaneously, guilty looks on their faces, and Rebekah had this feeling like she'd been caught in the act of spying. Well, not 'like'. They really were spying. But then, it couldn't be helped with the gray-eyed Adonis right in front of them.

"We're checking out Cami's fine-looking friend," she said nonchalantly.

Hayley smiled, "Mm hmm, he sure is."

"Go away, Nik, we're enjoying ourselves here. Your presence is completely unnecessary. In fact, consider it downright unwelcome."

Both women noted how his eyebrows raised in question. How he tried to be subtle about peering below for himself, and therefore witnessing how this man touched Camille with a familiarity that could only happen with two people who've known each other for a long time. Both women also noted how his grip tightened slightly on the banister as he stared below with an impassive face.

Finally, he turned around to go back inside, leaving them without a word.

"Well," Rebekah said after some moments passed. "That was rather rude."

"I wasn't going to say anything, but he's your brother."

"Yes, but I wasn't the one he slept with and knocked up."

"Really, Rebekah? You had to go there?"

"Sorry, still have my bitch mode on, I keep forgetting to turn it off."

Shrugging their cattiness off the way only two women who are used to bickering like this could do, they both went back to watching Cami with the divine-looking man. They knew their priorities, after all.

…

Cami walked side by side with Niall towards a nearby coffee shop, opting to look down at her feet instead of looking directly at the person walking next to her. She could feel waves of annoyance practically radiating from him at her refusal to look him eye-to-eye at this point. She would have suggested going to the compound like any normal and properly raised human being would do, but things were quite complicated with everyone being present. She couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but she had a feeling that Klaus and Niall meeting would not bode well at all. And she knew, that the moment Niall could take a look at her face while Klaus was around, that he would know.

So here they were, entering some random coffee shop a couple of blocks away.

As he opened the door for her, she briefly noticed the way his muscles stretched his shirt. While Cami may have been in love with Klaus, this didn't make her entirely blind to good looking men around her. And Niall was very good-looking indeed. Even when they were young, his women troubles seemed to stem from trying to avoid them instead, for they rather liked pursuing him at all costs.

She looked at him again, noting that time had been very kind to him. He was now, what? Thirty-one? Thirty-two? Experience had only made his striking appearance look even more imposing, and she was sure the women in Ireland couldn't possibly immune to his charms, as well. Niall's appearance was the type that appealed to everyone around the world, and he'd probably left a string of broken hearts upon leaving Ireland to come here.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever look at me," he said, his voice still the same deep baritone she'd always remembered. That deep reverberating voice was the sound that calmed her during her darkest moments. Made her feel that everything was going to be fine. Other people were put off by the way he spoke, there was a commanding quality to it that made lesser men feel insecure, but how much she'd liked that voice.

"I was trying to find the courage," she finally said.

She had to admit, it was a little daunting to have him back. And she felt like a kid once more, the memories of having a crush on him came rushing back. She remembered being sixteen and looking at him like he was the world. Niall had never looked at her in that light, but treated her like a little sister instead. Now that he was here, she didn't exactly have the same kind of feelings anymore, but she knew Niall. She would always know Niall, that he'd have her best interests at heart. Although he was the first man to ever break her heart by moving away, and she felt a little betrayed that he'd never once looked back, she still felt a huge amount of affection for him. And that was something that would never change. He may look and sound like another uncaring businessman to the rest of the world, but she would always remember him as this big softie that looked out for her and Sean.

She couldn't help but smile. "I'm just realizing how much I've missed you."

His face, which seemed like it had a permanent frown etched on to it, more likely directed at her, softened on her unexpected admission. "I've missed you too, Cami."

"So tell me what brings you here?"

"You didn't believe me the first time when I said I'd come home for you?"

"Not in the slightest. What's the real reason?"

"Like I said. You," he said bluntly, looking at her with a directness that unnerved her. "Were you ever going to reply to my texts? Answer my calls? Tell me you've apparently moved?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Cami, I've been out of my mind with worry since I got here. I've been here for three days to look only for you. Do you even want to know how I found you? I had to track down every bar in the goddamn French Quarter and ask whether you worked there. Then when I finally found Rousseau's, I had to make them give me your new address. And I only got it when I asked the fifth employee, the first four knew better than to give out addresses to strangers. I was ready to physically harm someone for it, to be honest."

"I'm sorry you had such a hard time."

"God, I was imagining the worst," he said, sighing in frustration, running his fingers through his hair as if he wanted to pull them out.

"I haven't seen you in years, Niall."

"I am aware of that. I'm just wondering how much you've changed."

"I haven't changed at all. Nothing's changed. Except Kieran is dead. And you didn't come home. And why now? Why come home now when you couldn't even stay a week after Sean's funeral?" She couldn't keep the accusing note out of her voice at her final sentence.

"There's no excuses for my behavior. You must know that Sean's funeral was one of the hardest things I had to go through. Leaving you as kids and coming back home to him lying in a casket. I couldn't deal with it at all. I couldn't stomach facing you because if I did, I would just be a fucking mess. I flew out as soon as I could to escape. To forget everything and throw myself at work day and night. I was a right bastard for not even checking up on you, I couldn't even face you, and the guilt I felt…"

"You don't owe me anything. You've done more than enough."

"No, you must know how I've… I'm sorry, Cami. I've kept in touch with Kieran all throughout these years, and he always told me how you've been. I wanted so many times to call and apologize."

"Why weren't you at Kieran's funeral?"

"He'd written to me before the curse had taken its full blown effect and-"

She stared at him, thinking she misheard. "The curse?"

"The curse, the hex, whatever those witches call it."

Her eyes widened. "Witches. You know," she breathed. "Niall, you know of it too?"

"Know of what?"

"This… all this… the supernaturals in New Orleans."

"Of course I do," he said impatiently. "How do you think Kieran acquired so much of those dark objects in his secret hide out? I was helping him for years while I was here."

Her mind raced, a million thoughts suddenly rushing through at this surprising revelation. She wanted to say something to him but her mind couldn't process the powers of speech as of that moment. Instead, she just stared at him as if seeing him in a whole new light.

He went on, "When Kieran was sick, was cursed, I'd written him that I wanted to come down here to be with you two. He told me I would be too late. That whatever would happen was going to kill him. He wanted me to finish up whatever the hell I needed to do in Ireland and come down here, to look after you. So I worked myself to the bone, finished everything, sold the business, tied off all my loose ends. And now here I am."

The realization that even while Kieran was in death's door and the only thing he thought of was her safety unexpectedly brought tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them off, not wanting to lose Niall's momentum of revealing everything that she had not been privy to all these years.

It felt good, to know that there was another human that knew of the world she now was actively thrown in. Like a weight was about to be lifted from her shoulders.

"Where are you staying right now?" she asked.

"I'm renting a house somewhere in Burgundy street."

He was silent after that, looking at her, as if waiting for her to speak and tell him more. She didn't, because she didn't know exactly where to begin. Or how he would look at her. Would he think she was some sort of traitor? She knew Niall. He had more rigid morals than she, which was why she could see him assisting Kieran in the hopes of fighting evil. She thought Niall would answer the call for priesthood too at some point, but apparently that wasn't part of his plan.

When she kept looking at him without saying anything, he suddenly moved closer to her and spoke quietly, "That place you live in, Cami, I know what it is. Or what it used to be."

She looked away, a part of her knowing where this was already going.

"Why do you stay there?" he asked.

Without too much elaboration or emotion, she told him of the story of how one of the regular patrons had followed her from the bar, entered her house while she was sleeping, and attempted to kill her. How she'd nearly lost, fighting for her life, how she no longer felt it was safe to stay in her apartment by herself. How her friends, the Mikaelsons, extended their invitation for her to stay with them.

"Jesus Christ," he said, looking like he wanted to punch someone badly. "I wish I could have been here for you."

"It's okay, I'm doing better now, I swear. I'm just glad you could still make it here. Sometimes it's good to see a friendly face from my childhood years."

He stared at her for the longest time, as if debating on what to say next. "These Mikaelsons… you mean the same Mikaelsons as the original vampires, I assume."

She bit her lip. He drummed his fingers, waiting for her reply.

"Niall, you have to tell me how much you know."

"More than you can imagine. Jesus. No wonder Kieran wanted me here. You're not exactly mixing in with the right sort, are you."

"I don't need a babysitter. Or a guardian. Or a…"

"Did you hear me mention any of those words?"

"No, but…"

"Then I'm not here as a baby-sitter, or a guardian. I'm here as your friend, as your family. Honestly someone needs to look after you, because you're doing a lousy job of looking out for yourself."

She forgot how direct Niall could be. She should have been offended but she wasn't. She was busy being happily surprised at the fact that someone wanted to count her as family. That she still had him, after all.

She gave him a tremulous smile. "I'm certainly not the best."

"You are welcome to stay with me if you want," he said with a smile, gray eyes turning dark. "The house has three bedrooms, you'd have your space, complete privacy. I've leased it for some time so there's no worry of you having to move out anytime soon."

"I…" she trailed off, completely taken aback at the offer. "I'll think about it."

He leaned back, clasped his hands together and regarded her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

After staring at her sometime, he finally asked, "Who is it?"

"Who is what?"

"Between the Mikaelson brothers. The one you're in love with."

"Niall, you..." she stopped, not knowing how to continue with this discussion.

He stared off at a distance for some time as if lost in thought, and then turned back to her with a humorless smile. "Well?"

"It's none of your business."

"Maybe it is," he shrugged, tucking both hands in his pockets and stretching out his long legs.

"What are you saying?"

He didn't answer and just stared at the couple next to them. One of the baristas had been giggling for quite some time now to get Niall's attention, and he finally turned to her and gave her a small smile, causing her to give a surprised squeal.

Cami laughed at the entire thing. "Oh God, nothing's changed."

He turned his gaze back to her. "You have," he said quietly.

"Me? How?"

He stared at her face for a while. "You've become even more beautiful."

….

After a while, when they'd finished catching up and were about to head back to the compound, the rain suddenly poured with the anger of a hundred gods hellbent on wiping humanity with a great deluge. Skies that were clear blue just an hour ago very quickly darkened. Huge rain clouds opened up without cease, drenching the whole of downtown, and Cami and Niall tried to make a run for it.

Midway, however, without the aid of an umbrella or any sort of protection, they were both soaked through and had given up running in full speed for a slow jog instead. They'd finally reached the compound gate and sought shelter under its awning.

Cami turned to him to say her goodbye, and he reached out to give her a hug once more.

"Niall, I appreciate you offering your place, but…"

"Don't decide yet," he interrupted, studying her face closely.

"Why?"

"You never know when you might need me," he said. He looked inside at the compound and then gazed back at her face, clasping her shoulders with both hands. "You're a smart girl. You must know that there is nothing for you here in this place. Nothing but heartbreak."

She tried to stop her emotions from coming out and said nothing.

"You already knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I will wait when, not if, but when, you need me."

"I don't want you to."

"That's not your choice is it? I promised Kieran I'd look out for you. I've already lost Sean and Kieran, Cami. I'm not about to lose you too."

He held her body, shuddering from the cold, shuddering from the onslaught of emotions, held her for some minutes amidst the heavy rainfall, until she finally went inside, where one Niklaus Mikaelson was waiting for her return.

….


	7. Chapter 7

YES I am so relieved to finally get this chapter up, it was a beast to write! Thank you so much for taking the time to review last chapter, it means everything to read the reviews, they were definitely fuel to churn out this next one. Your suggestions were taken into account, pervy or otherwise. I'm sure there's some typos here but I will re-read this sometime this week when my eyes don't feel like they want to drop out of my eye sockets.

**Chapter Seven: Confrontations**

"Storm is coming," Hayley Marshall suddenly commented, staring up at the sky.

Rebekah Mikaelson looked up and observed the clearest, bluest skies in the history of New Orleans, with no signs of clouds spotted for miles, and gave the wolf queen a look of confusion.

_Storm huh?_

She inwardly shrugged. Whatever Hayley predicted about the weather, it was certainly bound to be more reliable than what Rebekah's senses were currently telling her, which was… nothing. A big entire nothing. To predict the weather these days in Rebekah's current body, one had to have salt, a raven's feather, some other stuff she forgot, and cast some mumbo jumbo with it. It was getting to be quite troublesome, these little setbacks to having a witch's body.

But, she wasn't going to complain. It was her choice after all.

Both her and Hayley were still situated outside, spying on Cami and Niall talking by the gate, and they most likely would have stayed there and snooped for a very long time if the two hadn't walked away and left their line of sight.

"Drats!" Rebekah cursed. "Well that's that. It was fun while it lasted, Hayley."

She looked at Hayley who was still carrying a now sleeping Hope. The other girl gave her a sly smile, "Guess you'll just have to get Cami to bring him around here again."

"You know what, Hayley Marshall, I believe that's not a bad idea from you for once," Rebekah commented, face brightening at the thought of the human girl bringing around Niall where both girls could better ogle him up close.

"Your brother won't be happy though," Hayley reminded.

"Oh, Nik can stuff it."

They both finally went inside, now that Cami and Niall were gone, there really was no reason to be loitering outdoors, was there? Upon entering the room, they were greeted by the sight of Nik already getting started with some late afternoon drinking. _Typical._ Rebekah rolled her eyes and plopped on the couch.

"Are we going to have to peel you off the floor later on, Nik? Like good ol' days," she said, unable to resist provoking her brother.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rebekah. I've always been able to handle my alcohol. You must have confused the two of us since it was you who did most of the passing out." He topped off his glass with a little more bourbon and made a motion as if to say 'cheers' to her, and drank the whole thing.

"Observe my brother's way of sulking, Hayley. When the bottles start decreasing in number is when you know he's in quite a mood," she addressed to the other girl, and then turned back to Nik. "They left together, if you must know."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Hayley bite her lip to stifle a smile. Her brother, in the meantime, chose not to dignify her obvious trolling with a response, and instead sat on the armchair across her, studying his empty glass with an inscrutable face.

She sighed dramatically. "You know, I don't really understand it. If you like her, just tell her that you like her. You're a thousand years old, for the love of everything that is holy, I'm pretty sure you can figure out a way to sound out the words."

All she was rewarded with was a mildly annoyed look as his response. "And what do you know of this matter, Rebekah? Are things doing that well with Marcel that you have time to meddle with others' affairs?"

"Oh please, like you're incapable of meddling. You bloody originated that word. Some bloke probably took a look at you in the year 1500's and they quite possibly went 'oh yeah he looks a bit like a meddler,' 'what's a meddler?', 'I don't know but whatever that chap Niklaus Mikaelson is, he's a damn meddler.' And voila! You've invented a word. Also, don't even try your tactical diversions on me, I know you too well."

Nik merely rolled his eyes at her.

"You know what? Let me show you how simple it can be," Rebekah stated, standing up and turning to grab Hope from Hayley. She gave the child for Nik to carry on his lap, and told Hayley "You be Cami, and I be Nik."

Without giving Hayley a chance to even react, she took Hayley's hands in hers, twirled her about gracefully as if they were dancing, held on tightly to her waist, and dipped her so low on the ground that the wolf queen gasped. Rebekah then bent over towards her and said "Oh Cami, my darling… you're so beautiful and… blonde… I am a total and complete wanker, so unworthy of you, but please accept my everlasting love."

It was when she and Hayley were making smacking noises with their lips, when the very stoic Elijah chose this time to enter the room. Upon witnessing the little tableau the girls have put, he looked at Niklaus in alarm, wisely chose not to say anything, and very slowly backed out to retrace his steps, retreating into the safety and sanity of his own bedroom.

Hayley broke off Rebekah's grasp and stood upright, blushing furiously as she fixed her hair.

Rebekah continued on, unfazed, saying, "It's as simple as that, Nik. You just take a woman, and you kiss her, you kiss the bloody hell out of her. I don't even know why I have to tell you that, you already know this."

Nik sighed and said in an almost bored tone, "As entertaining as that has been for all of us here, Rebekah, it would actually be better if I knew you weren't just simply talking out of your a-"

Rebekah shrugged. "Just figured you ought to know, a good woman like that doesn't come often. And she won't hang around waiting for you to get your head on right, Nik. She's got other… enticing prospects. She is mortal, after all, short life and all that.

"And I think therein lies his problem," Hayley remarked, taking Hope back from Nik.

Rebekah met Hayley's eyes, and they both looked at him, finding his face covered in now barely concealed ire and disgust, not pleased where the conversation had turned. "No matter what atrocities I've done in the past, I do not think it warrants the punishment of having two nosy women psycho-analyzing me about a subject I could not care less about," he said, getting up and out of his chair. "If you ladies will excuse me, I'd much rather waste my time with other riveting things than listen to this rubbish."

Hayley's eyebrows raised at his response, and Rebekah gave a short laugh.

"Have we touched a nerve, Nik?" she called out to his retreating back.

Her brother's lack of answer said plenty enough.

….

It was some hours later when the storm came out of the blue and cut the power off, including that of the compound's. While other people may grumble at the lack of electricity, this didn't bother Elijah Mikaelson at all. He liked the rain. He liked being in the dark. In fact, he felt more at home moving around in the shadows, listening to the steady sound of rain and the boom of thunder, than being out in the daylight, exposed and vulnerable to everything that could see him.

He came out of his room to get a nightcap when he spotted Niklaus standing by himself in the dark, a glass of bourbon in his hand, looking out the window.

"It doesn't bode well for a woman when you wait for her in the dark," he commented, trying to gauge what mood his brother was currently in.

Niklaus said nothing, and Elijah could tell from the way his brother's posture indicated tension, from the way he breathed a little too heavily, that he was in fact, seething about certain things.

"If you are getting ready to do something brash, I would advise you against-"

"Rest assured, I am not."

"What are you doing here then?"

"Wondering what it is like to be mortal."

"Ah."

They were both silent until Niklaus spoke once more. "Have you ever wished to be one once more, Elijah? Ever thought of giving everything up? The power, the long life, to live as a human?"

If Elijah found the nature of his brother's questions strange, he did not give any indication of it. He took a while to reply as he thought of whether to gloss it over and lie, or to answer this one truthfully. He decided to go for the latter. "I have. Several times over the course of our lives, in fact."

"And now?"

"It would have been a mistake. I do not even have to tell you that, you already know. In fact, you were one of the strongest critics of why we should not lead a mortal life, even as our mother was freely offering the chance."

"Mortality would not protect my daughter. Only as the most powerful creature on earth would I be able to defend her if need be."

"And what of Camille?" Elijah questioned.

"What of her?"

"She is the reason why you bring this up, is she not?"

Niklaus exhaled sharply. "I don't know what else is left to say, Elijah. You've made your point quite clear."

"It certainly makes it difficult when someone thinks of you as the hero for once, and not the villain of the story."

A tiny smile crossed his brother's lips. "Makes you want to keep it that way."

"Tell me, what would you do if you were mortal?"

"I-", Niklaus stopped midway his sentence and turned his head slightly to the right, as if listening intently to something.

Elijah turned his head to that direction as well, wondering what he was hearing. As he listened in, he heard the distinct sound of Camille's voice outside. Another voice had joined hers, a male one. Both brothers listened in, their senses focused on the conversation going on by the gate, from her thanking him for offering her a place to live in, to him attempting to convince her that there was nothing here for her, to the sound of their silence outside, amidst the background noise of the rain.

Elijah had a clear vision in his mind, as the two had lapsed in silence, that they were locked in an embrace that lasted for a while. He glanced sideways to check his brother's face.

As he predicted, Niklaus' expression of displeasure could not be any clearer, and not for the first time, as he retired back to his room, he could not help but feel sorry for the lovely Camille.

….

Camille O'Connell was grateful to finally be back at the compound. It had been a mentally and emotionally exhausting day to see Niall again, and to make matters worse, they had to run as the weather raged on. Her clothes were soaked through and more than anything, she wanted to be immediately rid of them, have a nice warm bath, and just go to sleep under her thick covers until the end of time.

As she went inside, she noticed the lack of lights throughout the whole house and concluded that the power must have gone out from the storm. Slowly putting her hand up against the wall, she guided herself as she walked, making sure not to trip on anything unexpected along the way. The last thing she wanted was a broken neck.

She finally made her way to her own room, flicked the switch of her lights out of habit, and sighed when she realized that the power really was out. Off her shoes went. Off her sodden jeans went. She sighed in relief at the feeling of getting those jeans off, bending over to rummage through her drawers for a dry change of clothes.

"Rough night?" came the low voice behind her.

She turned around so quickly in panic, she nearly gave herself whiplash. "Klaus!"

He was seated at the corner of the room, on the very same armchair she always sat on when she read, hidden in the shadows, one hand nursing a drink.

He swirled his glass and swallowed the remainder of his drink, taking his time before speaking. "Who is he?"

There was a casual tone to his voice that disguised something else, and she didn't like it at all. Sure enough, before she could even phrase a reply, he stood up and walked slowly towards her. She tried to hold her ground when all she wanted to do was step back.

From this distance, she could tell his face was flushed, and there was an intensity to his eyes that warned her this was not a situation she wanted to be in. Was he drunk? She couldn't really tell, she couldn't tell anything at all, except at this moment, he looked dangerous, and her alarmed feeling intensified with the lights out, no pants on, with an angry looking man walking towards her.

She tried to keep her voice level as she answered. "He's a friend. Someone I knew from childhood, I…"

Without warning, he vamp-sped towards her, briefly colliding with her as he pressed her back forcefully against the wall. His arms went up on either side of her shoulders, palms laid flat against the wall, effectively trapping her.

She gasped at the suddenness of the movement, gasped at the feeling of being trapped between the wall and his body, at the feeling of his hot breath now on her face.

"A friend?" he asked silkily, curling his lip as he gazed down at her.

He pressed himself closer against her, and she bit her lip at the feeling of his warm and solid chest against the damp cotton of her camisole.

"Is that why you were gone with him for hours?" he said softly, taking one hand off the wall to slowly caress her cheek, tracking the soft skin there with a fingertip. Her breath hitched as she felt his warm touch upon her cold face. She squirmed at the sensation and she saw his eyes move down to her body and slightly narrow at something. He grasped her wrist tightly and pulled it away from her body.

"Is that why you're perfectly fine with him seeing you like this?" he asked brusquely, motioning to the transparent material of her soaked white cami, now plastered to her skin and obscenely clinging to every curve, every indentation, displaying everything.

She gasped and tried to cover herself from his gaze, but he wouldn't release her wrist. Instead, he pressed his other hand behind her back, arching her up against him, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Is that why his scent is all over you?" he said in quiet anger.

"Klaus," she said, trying to break off his grasp, "I don't know what you're talking about." Her heart was beating fast at the look on his face. He didn't answer her and continued to hold her close, to gaze down at her with his jaw clenched, those lips in a grim line.

His eyes searched hers for a long time, as if there were answers to be found there, and she found herself wondering why he continued to stare at her in silence. She was breathing hard, not knowing what to do in this position. He was pressed so close against her, it was hard not to be affected by his nearness and his scent.

"What-"

He finally moved to tuck a loose wet tendril of hair behind her ear, softly saying her name, "Camille."

He whispered her name once more, barely audible, as if he was in anguish, "Camille…"

She stared into his eyes, confused at what he wanted from her. His hand stayed on the arch of her back as the other reached out to tenderly cup her face, to brush his thumb against her cheek. She felt powerless to stop her body's instinct to close her eyes in pleasure at his touch.

When her eyes opened, he spoke to her in a pained voice. "There are certain things I cannot allow myself to do, no matter how much I may desire to do so, I cannot allow it. Because it is the right thing to do, it is the only thing to do."

She swallowed. "I'm afraid you've… you've lost me."

HIs eyes drifted downwards to her mouth as she spoke, as if fascinated with the movement of her lips. His eyes glittered with something she couldn't identify, and her breathing quickened as his thumb slowly, torturously traced her lips, pressing against the soft pink flesh of her slightly parted mouth, lingering there as he continued to stare at her lips and the way he was drawing his thumb across it.

"I deny myself, Camille, day in and day out," he said, his voice so soft she almost couldn't hear him. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and for a second, she recognized the unmistakable look of desire in them.

He lowered his mouth near her ear and whispered, "Forgive me, if I find myself unable to do that tonight." He gave her lips a final tantalizing stroke with his thumb and gazed at her. "Not when you torment me so."

He leaned forward and with a suddenness that shocked her, crushed his lips against hers, hands moving to grip both of her wrists to make sure she couldn't move. Whatever breath that remained in her lungs was gone as she felt the first touch of his mouth against hers.

_Oh God._

She tasted bourbon, smelled his aftershave, felt the warm wet heat that was distinctly Klaus Mikaelson against her lips. One hand released her wrist to gently tilt her head, deepening the kiss, tasting her completely. One hand settled on her shoulder as she pressed herself closer to him, his thumb running up and down her neck and collarbone in slow, languid motions that made her question her sanity. He started insistently nipping her bottom lip, licking it in such a slow lazy fashion that she moaned from the torture.

Her lips parted, letting him in. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, wantonly arching up against him. She let him taste her completely, fully, let him taste the rain on her skin without holding anything back.

This was it, this was where she belonged. It was like coming home to a warm toasty fire after a cold, brutal day spent outside. It felt like her soul had wandered for years and finally found its other half through this kiss. She closed her eyes in pleasure and found herself wishing it would never end.

She felt the tiny tremors go through his body as he kissed her, and she knew for certain she wasn't the only one affected. As she gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down to her mouth to further taste him, she felt this tiny ball of heat in her chest burst and explode into a million little sparks, filling up her cold body. She was holding nothing back, letting this man kiss her, letting him glimpse everything she ever felt, letting him eclipse every little part of her soul.

He groaned quietly, pressing her harder against the wall. She was vaguely aware of the rough material of his jeans chafing against her legs, of the heat that was pressed against her barely clothed body, the undeniable desire that was there. His hands were all over her, setting her body on fire, exploring freely below her wet camisole She gasped in shock as his warm fingers met her cold skin, gasped at this intimate touch she'd only dreamed of him doing. His fingers trailed up, up, up, lightly, almost reverently touching her, barely brushing against her breasts. The tips of his fingers teasingly grazed against her nipples, and she found herself shuddering unconsciously at the sensation.

"Klaus," she begged raggedly against his lips. "Please."

She felt his hand below her clothes gather the wet material of her cami, felt him clench his fist tightly, and in one single motion, violently rip the cloth away from her body.

She cried out in surprise as he completely yanked her top off her and threw it to the side, breaking off the kiss. She automatically raised her arms to cover herself.

He was breathing hard as he stared at her. For seconds, he did nothing, and she stood there in confusion, unsure why he was no longer touching her, why he was beginning to look at her in that manner.

"Klaus?" she asked softly.

"It reeks of him," he said, contempt in his voice, staring at the offending piece of cloth he tore away. His fingers reached up to touch his lips, as if recalling what they were doing just moments ago. She watched the range of emotions flit through his eyes, from desire, to a sudden realization, to anger, to hurt, until a hardened expression was finally back in place.

She stepped closer to him to close the distance, to reach out and bring him back, when he gripped her wrist, stopping her.

"Don't," he said softly, "A man can only take so much, and you are worth more than a drunken tryst."

She gaped at him, her brain refusing to process what exactly happened, for he was now staring at her with such hard eyes and a distant expression that she couldn't believe this was the same man passionately kissing her earlier. She couldn't express it, the depths of her bewilderment and disappointment. And now a new feeling was popping up from within her. Shame. Shame as she saw him surveying her impassively.

"Whatever it is you're thinking…" she started.

"It matters not what I think, Camille. You and I both know this is headed nowhere."

"Stop this," she whispered. "This isn't you."

"What am I, if not a monster?" he said flatly, looking away. "I will always remain one, you've known that for a while."

She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry, not to show the utter devastation she felt inside at his words.

He looked back at her, his face tense. "It is better that your 'friend' has come back to town, for he is more able to provide you with whatever it is you need."

"And what it is that you think I do need?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. The tears started to sting her eyes.

"A far better life than the one I can offer," he said, looking straight at her before walking out, leaving her in the room by herself, half-naked and cold.

….

It was a miracle that Camille O'Connell even woke up the next morning. Actually, it was even more of a miracle that she slept at all, having tossed and turned for hours, envisioning different things she could have said that would have made things turn out differently. As the lights came back on hours later, she finally realized that no matter what she did or said, it still would have ended up that way and Klaus' true feelings would have been revealed. And so with pillows stained with tears, exhaustion finally took over and she was able to sleep, dreaming restlessly.

Now it was the morning after, and as the bright daylight shone through her windows and the birds obnoxiously chirped outside, she wanted to just roll over and cover her head with a pillow. It was a beautiful day in New Orleans, but her heart was breaking, and she wished that the weather would follow suit to match her mood. At least she would have felt better about staying in her room to mope if there was thunder, lightning and a great flood rivaling that of Noah's in the background.

Did she even want to get up at all? Was there some way she could briefly slip into a coma? Maybe if she fell off her bed and hit her head hard enough, maybe fall unconscious and wake up only when he… oh right, he was immortal. How could she forget.

It was a given that Cami would have stayed in her room forever if her stomach hadn't been growling for the past hour. Against her will, she sneaked quietly into the kitchen to get herself some juice and a granola bar, and was about to head right on back to her room when she spotted Rebekah.

The female Mikaelson was currently reclining on the chaise in the living room, long legs out, engrossed in reading a book about fictional modern vampires trying to blend in a high school. Thankfully there was no sign of anybody else, so Cami headed to where she was and sat down on the armchair across her, getting started with her breakfast.

Rebekah momentarily glanced at her and Cami motioned to her book. "Twilight, huh?"

She sighed. "Trying to keep up with today's popular culture is tough."

"And how are you finding it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Complete and utter rubbish. I could have smashed my head repeatedly against the bloody keyboard and wrote something that could have turned out better than this. Can you believe what a whiny little twit the female protagonist is? Talk about helpless. This garbage just set back feminism by about a hundred years, the writer ought to be ashamed of herself. Oh yes, and that little tidbit about how they sparkle in sunlight? Lord have mercy, if their goal was to make it appear what pathetic little wusses vampires are, they've certainly succeeded."

"Uh huh," Cami said in a deadpan tone. "And which team are you on?"

"Jacob, of course," Rebekah answered quickly, giving her an expression as if to say _did you even have to ask?_

"The werewolf over the vampire. Marcel would be quite jealous."

"Speaking of jealous, what did he do now?"

"Who?"

"Oh Good Lord, Cami, I thought we were well past the whole denying thing. He's not here, you know. He left early in the morning, running away like a guilty little wretch. You'd think Mikael was once again chasing him to the ends of the earth." Rebekah closed her book, taking care to mark her page, and stared at her closely. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"I'd rather keep it to myself for now."

"Just wondering. You look like crap."

"Gee, Rebekah, just the magic sentence that makes me want to spill all my secrets."

Rebekah sighed. "I'm just saying, whatever he said, whatever he did, there could be certain reasons for those."

"I appreciate you coming to his defense, really I do. But I've always made it a point to understand him and where he's coming from, you know that."

"Oh. Right."

Cami found herself studying Rebekah, a person whom she felt was fast becoming her friend. The mulish expression on her face suddenly reminded her of another Mikaelson that was taking up too much space in her heart. One she was trying hard not to think of.

"Did you know I was a twin?" Cami asked, intent on changing the track of her thoughts.

"Was?"

"He died two years ago."

"I'm sorry, Cami. I can imagine the pain of losing a sibling."

"He was my… everything. He looked out for me and I looked out for him. In a lot of ways, it felt more than just losing a sibling, it was like losing a huge part of myself as well. To lose him was, well, probably the worst thing I've experienced."

Rebekah said nothing for a long time, trying not to embarrass her by looking at her as a tear ran down her cheek. The female Mikaelson spoke in a tone that sounded as if she'd been thinking of something far-away. "Is that why you find solace in Nik's company?"

She looked at Rebekah in surprise, and seemed to mull it over. "I don't know. Perhaps. I've felt so alone the past few years. He was the one who made things better, made that feeling of isolation go away. The multiple times he'd risked his life to save me, he made me feel that there was someone looking out for me once more."

"You know, Nik has never really opened up to anyone. He's always been closed off, even as a child. Always kept his cards close to his chest. I don't know why that was. It must have been all that abuse from our father, growing up he was made to feel different, separate from the rest of us. He never really talked about it, it was as if it shamed him to speak of any pain in front of me and Elijah. We knew it bothered him, of course, he just never really confided in us and…" she trailed off, as if suddenly realizing something, "...and we never really asked."

Cami was silent as she pictured what it must have been like growing up in such a hostile environment.

"Turning into a werewolf made the shame even worse, if you can imagine."

"I can," Cami said, recalling the day that Klaus showed her his memory of turning the first time.

"How come you never wrote him off, when it was so easy for us to do so? Even as you know he's done the terrible things he has, how could you still believe in him? He doesn't exactly inspire loyalty. Fear, yes, loyalty, no. How easily he can turn against you if you make just one misstep."

"Do you remember what he was like? As a kid?"

"Nik as a kid? God, that was such a long time ago. Let me see… he liked art. And carving things. He used to carve toys for me and give them to me when I would cry. Of course I always did so he'd give me a new one at times. He loved drawing. And music! We had this little flute he carved out himself, he used to play a lot of tunes with it. He never really liked fighting, would you believe? He much rather preferred spending time in the woods by himself, looking at the scenery, taking injured birds back home to care for them…"

Rebekah smiled in fond memory, and Cami couldn't help but share that grin. "That's the Klaus that could have been if he'd grown up in a healthier environment. If he hadn't turned. Hadn't spent his life running from a father who continuously rejected him and then kept trying to kill him. I really don't know how much self-actualization you can do in a thousand years when you're just trying to survive. When there's this fear hanging over your head. As hard as it may be to believe, in his own way, he's actually… a good man."

Rebekah stared at her in wonder.

"What?"

"You aren't just in love with my brother, Cami," Rebekah said. "You love him. You actually love him."

Rebekah's statement made her heart ache a little bit more, and she tried to force a smile on her face.

"I do," she confessed, now unashamed of saying it. "And even if he never returns these feelings, I think I always will."

Cami heard her give out a huge sigh. "I guess you think it's pathetic, huh?" she asked, smiling ruefully.

"Not at all," Rebekah said, taking her hand. "I think it's brave, to love wholeheartedly. There are too few women in the world who can be honest with themselves about their feelings. I'm tired of people saying a woman that loves is weak and foolish. A woman that loves is anything but weak. It takes strength and courage to love, especially a man such as my brother."

As Cami looked into Rebekah's eyes, she found herself thinking about her words. Found herself realizing that she was indeed strong and courageous. And that there were a lot of good qualities about her, qualities that have shaped her to become a good person, to become a person she liked, a person she could be proud of.

And if Klaus Mikaelson refused to see that and chose to run away and throw her feelings back at her face, then it was most definitely his loss.

….

A week had passed and the Mikaelson household still had not heard from Nik. Rebekah found herself fast getting annoyed with her brother, knowing especially that each day that passed without communication from him made Cami's spirits plummet. Hayley soon left the compound to go back to her pack at the bayou, which made her other troublesome brother, Elijah, breathe a little easier. He was still around the house, but was going back and forth to his own place across the river.

One beacon of hope that remained for Rebekah was Niall's regular visits throughout the week. The first time he came, he'd waited for Cami outside the gate, until Rebekah insisted that Cami invite him in. The girl was more at ease to do so now, especially with no unstable lunatics running around to put Niall's life in danger.

If Niall was even remotely uncomfortable in Rebekah or Elijah's presence, he didn't show any indication of it. In fact, he was completely charming with Rebekah, who did her best to flirt with him shamelessly to the highest level. But, as charming as he was, the man only had eyes for Cami.

One time he'd stayed for lunch, and Rebekah left both of them in the room to get something. Upon coming back, however, she'd heard them engaging in quite an intense discussion, and she couldn't help but put her ear next to the door to listen in before coming back.

She justified her eavesdropping by telling herself that she was only looking out for Cami, of course. And with the way things were going, her suspicions proved to be correct. Niall was asking her to move in over at his place, which apparently had enough room for her to stay in (although if you ask Rebekah, three bedrooms in a house was nothing to brag about at all). Hearing this proposition from Niall made her heart race, for it did not look good at all for Cami, or Nik.

Nik needed to come home this instant, otherwise, this man was quite easily going to worm his way into Cami's vulnerable heart. And she could picture it happening of course. Cami, heartbroken from being left by the wicked and dastardly Niklaus Mikaelson, would take one look at those bulging muscles and those steamy gray eyes, and she would be lost for sure. All it could take was just one kiss that could spark their passion for each o…

Damnit, she needed to stop reading romance novels.

_Where the bloody hell was Nik anyway?_

She grimaced as she pressed her ear harder against the door, wanting to hear the rest of their conversation.

"Rebekah," came Elijah's disapproving voice behind her.

"Hush! I'm trying to listen," she said, attempting to swat Elijah's presence away.

"I do hope you're aware how deplorable this behavior is. Eavesdropping on two humans, how low you've sunk."

She rolled her eyes and abandoned her mission, now facing him with arms crossed. "Just because you can listen in to a conversation without moving a muscle, Elijah, does not mean that it isn't technically eavesdropping. I am merely at a disadvantage with this body, which is why I have to resort to such shamefully manual measures. I suggest that you spare me your unwarranted condescension, because you're coming off a bit hypocritical."

Was that embarrassment that flitted across Elijah's normally blank face? Hmm. She wondered. Serves him right, trying to lecture her, when she was a hundred percent sure that he was hearing Cami and Niall's conversation as well. Not to mention the numerous times he'd listened in to a conversation "accidentally". Elijah didn't look like it, but he was even more of a busybody than Nik was. He just had more self control to keep their secrets to himself, which was more than she could say for Nik, who'd earned his much-deserved reputation as the family gossip.

She gave him one last disapproving look and went back to listening in. Unfortunately, both had switched back to other mundane topics that were less exciting than what Rebekah wanted to hear, and if she did miss a vital piece of the conversation, she had no one to blame but Elijah.

As a last resort, because she was such a caring and concerned sister, she sent Nik a text, not bothering to conceal her disgust with him and his idiotic behavior.

[This bloke that fancies Cami is trying to get her to move in with him. If you don't get your bloody head out of your arse and come home, I will let him do exactly that.]

It wasn't until in the wee hours of the morning, when she was sure Nik was probably out on a bender somewhere, that she got his reply.

[She is free to go and do what she wishes, Rebekah. Leave me be.]

….

Elijah Mikaelson could not help the huge smile on his face from spreading. For two weeks, two blissful, peace-filled glorious weeks, the absence of his brother served as a much-needed respite for him. He finally got the opportunity to listen to his music without the snide comments on what lousy taste he had, he got to re-read his favorite novels without unnecessary and unimportant interruptions, and he finally got to spend some quality time with his adorable little niece without her loathsome father protectively hovering about like a pesky fly.

Next to Niklaus, of course, Rebekah was the most low maintenance companion. Aside from the occasional shallow complaints that were easily solved, she was a fresh summer breeze compared to the heavy and demanding miasma that was Niklaus.

Elijah was currently seated at the couch, finally having the living room to himself, enjoying the first edition of The Count of Montecristo, listening to genius that was Mozart. He had just finished his first glass of that rare bottle of wine he'd been wanting to break out, when his ears alerted him to a noise outside. He frowned, the realization that those footsteps were annoyingly familiar now dawning on him.

Niklaus was home.

He closed his book with a sigh and finished his wine with a last gulp. Of course, all good things must come to an end, after all.

"And so the prodigal son returns," Elijah drawled, leaning back lazily as his brother walked in.

Niklaus raised an eyebrow at his tone. "Well, I had to come back and make sure you didn't blow up another house, Elijah."

"As much as I loved the peace and quiet while you were gone, you should have thought of your daughter before running away. Hayley had to return to the bayou to tend to some business."

"And what kind of trouble did the ever useful Jackson get himself into now?"

"I do not know, and I have no wish to know. The point I was to make, Niklaus, is that you cannot shirk on your responsibilities, and run away whenever you feel like it."

"Why, I trusted you and Rebekah to take care of her. I had to get out, you know well that I-"

Rebekah came barreling into the room, most likely alerted of their brother's return by the sound of Niklaus' predictably loud voice. "You're back," she said, evidently displeased with him.

"Missed me, have you?"

"Ugh, tosser!"

"Charming, as usual, dear sister," he said, a grin forming on his face.

"Honestly, Nik, I don't know what it is you're smiling about. Cami is gone."

The grin suddenly disappeared.

"Now I'm stuck with you two fools in this house. I told you, didn't I? She knew she was the reason why you've gone. You've made it perfectly obvious. And she would much rather you spend time here, with your daughter, where you belong, rather than you keep away from the house because of her. She did the only thing she thought she could do and left."

"And you let her?"

Rebekah's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Why is this suddenly on me? I told you what she would bloody do if you didn't come back. This is all on you."

"Where is she now?"

She shrugged. "We just had that conversation, and the next thing I know is Niall coming here and helping her move out."

"Oh he did, did he?" Niklaus' calm voice belied the mutinous expression in his eyes. "Well if there's nothing else that's new while I was gone, I should go see to my daughter."

Without another word, he spun on his heel and went inside to see Hope in her nursery.

Rebekah turned to Elijah as soon as they were alone. "Don't think I assume you're innocent in all this, Elijah," she said heatedly.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, waiting for her to continue.

"They were doing so well when I got here, and I don't know what happened, but you must have said something to Nik. And… you didn't make a move to dissuade Cami from leaving at all, it's as if you wanted her gone."

"Rebekah, as much as I would love to play the finger-pointing game with you every now and then, you know nothing of what you speak of. I only had Camille's best interests at heart."

"Best interests? Is that what you call it? Why don't you enlighten me, brother dearest. You seem to know something I don't."

Elijah sighed and massaged his temples, as if the very conversation they were having was giving him a headache.

Rebekah started to speak. "You are so-"

"I'm sure you are quite aware, that time moves differently from us. While fifty years means nothing to me or to Niklaus, fifty years is roughly the remainder of what Camille has to live as a human. What do you think it will be like in the fifty years if they are to be together? Are you completely ignorant of the multiple enemies that surround us and threaten us on a daily basis? Do you not think she will want to live a normal life? Spend her valuable years enjoying it instead of living one in fear and anxiety knowing her very mortal life would always be in jeopardy? Tell me, what fairy tale ending did you envision for them?"

"This is not your choice to make, Elijah. That is for him to decide. That is for her to decide! For you to encourage their separation when they have not even reached the point of thinking about what they want to do speaks of the actions of a bitter, loveless man."

"You are as usual, too ideal and deluded-"

"And you are blind and jaded! These two people have found each other against all odds and might have a chance at some semblance of happiness, and you do not even see it. Or perhaps you do, and you are too afraid to even consider that Nik might have a shot at happiness even before you do."

"If you are even implying that I am jealous, you are sorely mistaken. I want our brother to find happiness, I do. But not at the cost of someone sacrificing their happiness for his."

"She needs him as much as he needs her," she said with an intensity that surprised him.

Elijah shook his head. "Shall I remind you then then?"

Without saying anything more, he reached out and touched her, sharing a memory.

The suitors who died from loving Rebekah Mikaelson, being loved by her, Elijah's lovers that were killed, all their faces flashed right before her eyes. As he took away his hand, she trembled for a length of time, unable to catch her breath, unable to say anything at all.

He looked at her with a sad smile. "How easily you forget the lives that have been lost throughout the centuries, Rebekah, just because an Original chose to love."

….

Niall McAllister was about to go to bed when his doorbell at 137 Burgundy Street rang. He looked at the clock, noting the insane time of the night that it was for people to be visiting each other. He debated on whether to ignore it or not, thinking it might have just been pranksters ringing the doorbell. He'd had those the week before and he wanted nothing more than to wring their troublesome little necks and send their corpses back to their mothers.

The doorbell rang again and with a sigh, he threw back his covers and reluctantly got up.

_Fuck, this better be good._

He looked at the peephole, found nobody standing there, and released a barrage of curses. He was about to enter his bedroom and go back to bed, when the doorbell rang again. For some reason, he felt the hairs of his arms stand up, and he quietly padded back to the door, his hand reaching for the gun he kept by the drawer of the table by the entryway. Slowly, stealthily, he looked into the peephole once more, hands gripping the gun in anticipation.

As he looked this time, however, he saw someone standing there.

A lone man, clothed in all black. Black leather jacket, black shirt. He looked to be late twenties, early thirties. Brown hair. Blue eyes. About six feet tall. He backed away a little and blinked, and then looked again. The man was still standing outside, an impatient expression on his face.

Niall had only seen pictures of this guy all over the Mikaelson compound. He didn't actually think he would come to his house, at this time.

Sighing, he tucked the gun behind his back, thinking it was useless to be carrying a gun against this man anyway. After all, if he did decide to kill him, there really was nothing he could do about it. He mentally cursed himself for not being better prepared for this instance, and very slowly opened the door.

Both men sized each other up for a couple of seconds, until finally the late night guest directed his gaze into Niall's eyes and said, "Invite me in. Tell Camille I am here and I wish to speak with her."

Niall found it strange, the way this man looked at him, too intensely. And the way he spoke those words with such imperiousness as if he thought Niall would just do his bidding. He was puzzled for a second until it finally occurred to him that the the fucking jerk was trying to compel him.

"After you give her my message, leave the premises," the man continued on, a sardonic smile on his face.

"I'm on vervain," Niall stated flatly, clearly unamused at the attempts to compel him.

The hybrid lost his smile upon realizing that charm and compulsion would now get him nowhere. His eyes glittered dangerously and for a moment, Niall thought he was going to come right in and attack him, but he comforted himself at the thought that they could not come in without being invited. And currently, as far as he knew, it was his name that was temporarily on the property.

"Tell Camille I wish to speak with her," he said threateningly, looming close to Niall's face, now shedding all pretence of the danger he posed.

"Yeah? Cami doesn't want to see you, mate. Maybe next time," Niall said with a shit-eating grin, closing the door with relish on the man's surprised face.

His heart was beating fast, now having encountered the notorious original hybrid for the first time. Having lied to his face that Cami was living here, when the truth was, she had declined to stay with Niall, and chose instead to live by herself somewhere else in the city.

Well, it's not like Niklaus Mikaelson needed to know that. Besides, Niall wasn't feeling nice enough to enlighten him of the current situation.

The bastard did, after all, try to compel him.

That night, as he finally drifted off to sleep, his last thought was of Niklaus Mikaelson's shocked face upon hearing Cami didn't want anything to do with him, and Niall could not help but smile.

….


	8. Chapter 8

After a long time of losing the inspiration to continue this story, I'm back! Thank you to my fellow Klamille shipper, fellow fanfic writer, my bae, Kay (geektastic08), for not losing hope and guilt-tripping me like no other into continuing this.

Thanks to all of you for being patient as hell, for reviewing, following, favoriting. Thank you. I knew it was months ago since my last update, but I have not forgotten the story and am fully intending to finish it. Just be very patient with me as I am a slow writer due to a ton of things I need to do and work on, but I will eventually get there.. Here is the latest installment, which I've entitled "Revelry" since there's a party (of course!), and to keep in line with the vague-ass nouns I've been using as my chapter titles because I am completely terrible with titles.

I hope you guys like it.

**Chapter Eight: Revelry**

Marcel Gerard stood on the rooftop of the abandoned building, looking up at the sky, recalling a certain night two hundred years ago he'd also killed time like this, gazing at the stars. Except the stars that were visible two hundred years ago could no longer be seen with New Orleans' light pollution. One of the "perks" of living in the city. As much as Marcel loved the hustle and bustle of downtown, there were times he longed for the quiet days of the past, when things were much simpler, and one could look up at the night sky to spot constellations without difficulty.

Out of nowhere, a voice broke him out of his reverie, causing him to tear his eyes away from the dark sky and look at the lone figure walking towards him from the ledge of the rooftop.

"Marcellus," the figure had called.

"About time you noticed me," he grinned easily. "I was feeling mighty lonely coming all the way up here, only to be ignored."

"I hope you know that pouting doesn't suit you," Klaus drawled, clasping him on the shoulder and looking him square in the eye. "But then again, Marcellus, you always were a needy little thing weren't you?"

"Me? Needy?" he asked incredulously, and then shrugged. "Must be my paranoia of being left combined with never-ending daddy issues." He paused and then thumped his hand on his chest, "Oh wait, my bad! That's actually you!"

Klaus dropped his hand from his shoulder and gave him an unamused look, as if dignifying him with a response would have been a little too much. That, or Marcel's burn cut him too deep and he had no immediate response. He preferred to think it was the latter.

Earlier last week, the original had called upon him for help, wanting a close eye kept on Camille O'Connell's new friend in town, Niall MacAllister. Since doing his sire favors weren't a matter of choice for Marcel, he'd reluctantly said, "I'll get some of my guys to trail him."

Instead of the acquiescence he'd expected, Klaus insisted that Marcel himself trail him, as he didn't want to leave the task to "one of your incompetent lackeys. No offense, mate." Marcel had then eyed him with barely concealed annoyance, voicing out that if he was going to be such a little priss about who trailed whom, why couldn't he just do this himself? As Marcel would find out later on, Klaus' reason was, "If I glimpse that bastard's cocky face once more, I might just kill him on the spot."

Marcel, with utmost self control, refrained from pointing out that Klaus was A). also a bastard, and B). had one of the cockiest faces he knew, random people just automatically wanted to punch it.

However, when angry words like that left his sire's lips, these were to be heeded with care as he knew from experience they were no idle threats. Many had ended up with necks broken from not taking his theatrics with more seriousness.

Of course, now that Klaus wanted to kill Camille's friend, Marcel deduced this really wouldn't bode well for his relationship with the human bartender. Anybody with half a brain cell could clearly see that Klaus valued such a relationship. Whatever the hell it was they had going on. Marcel didn't really know, and he didn't really want to know. As far as he was concerned, the less he mentioned Cami to Klaus' face, the better. The less he reminded Klaus that he and Cami used to be close, well, the better. After all, he already was currently in a relationship with the guy's sister, with his very begrudging permission. To also constantly remind Klaus of his previous connection with Cami would be equivalent to having a death wish, and Marcel hadn't lived to this age to be that stupid.

So in accordance with Klaus' wishes, Marcel himself had reluctantly stalked the human male. From afar, he'd watched Niall take vervain tablets each morning as he woke up, watched him strap a gun at his back as soon as his feet hit the floor. Watched the man put a wooden stake inside his jacket pocket each time he went outside of his house.

Marcel trailed him the moment he left the house to get a drink, the moment he left to go visit Cami. Marcel had even listened in to his conversations on the phone, not wanting to miss anything. Thanks to his supernatural hearing, he was able to position himself to hear everything, even the goddamn man's getting up in the middle of the night to take a leak.

As he gritted his teeth on the second night of stalking, he thought of the grotesque ways he wanted to kill Klaus for asking him to do this. And when Marcel was about to go berserk on the third day, he'd called on Josh to relieve him. Screw Klaus and his stupid ass requests. He had better things to do. But before he left to take a much needed rest, he made sure that Josh was on this guy like a leech.

At the end of the week, after a miserable, sleep-deprived, and starving Josh had reported back to Marcel of everything he'd seen and heard, Marcel nodded and gave him a pat in the back, as well as the next week off for a job well done.

And like the damned sidekick in a bad espionage film, Marcel Gerard had then set foot towards the Mikaelson compound. He was ready to unload all the information they've gathered and be done with it. He was ready to be praised for a job well done. Ready to be released from all the obligations to his sire. It was probably too much to hope for the last two things, for if there ever was an ungrateful bastard, it certainly was Niklaus Mikaelson.

Instead of welcoming him excitedly when he got there, however, Klaus was nowhere to be found.

Elijah, impeccably dressed as usual, had called out to him from the top of the steps, announcing that his brother wasn't around and wouldn't be back until after some hours. But if Marcel were to go and search for him at the rooftop of the old abandoned building by West Esplanade and 9th, he would most likely find him "lurking in the shadows, gazing like a besotted mooncalf at a certain woman."

Sure enough, when Marcel arrived at the rooftop of the exact building, a dark figure silhouetted by the lights of the surrounding buildings indeed had his toes right by the very ledge of the rooftop, staring intently at one of the lit windows of the apartment across. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flutter of movement from the apartment, revealing the blonde girl stepping into the small expanse of her kitchen. The huge window with its open blinds gave Klaus an excellent view from the rooftop. He heard the subtle change in his sire's breath, felt that almost imperceptible movement as he leaned slightly closer to get a better view.

_Predictable. _Marcel almost grinned.

Almost. He didn't want to die of a werewolf bite tonight.

From the bits and pieces he'd gathered from Rebekah while she spoke of them, he and Cami apparently had a falling out, causing her to move out of the compound. He didn't blame her one bit. Humans were not meant to know about their world. Though she was Kieran's niece, he thought she would be better off not knowing New Orleans housed the most dangerous creatures in existence. It felt wrong for her to have her rose-colored glasses stripped away and be confronted with the reality that she was living with supernaturals who preyed on people like her.

It was Klaus' decision, in the end, to respect her wishes and not compel her to forget anything. That same decision had now put her in mortal danger. It was rare for Klaus to actually consider anyone else's decision, especially if he didn't agree with it, but then again, Marcel would never understand what was going through his head when it came to dealing with Cami.

He gave Klaus a momentary sideways glance, only to stop short at the unmistakable look of hunger he saw in there.

Screw that, he knew exactly what Klaus was thinking when it came to the human girl.

Without making a sound, he let Klaus take his time in watching Camille. He, on the other hand, looked up at the night sky, thinking about things from the past. Thinking of Rebekah. The wind had now picked up its pace, blowing even harder at this height. Out of habit, he pulled his collar up.

After what seemed like an eternity, Klaus had finally took notice of him, and with their greetings of ribbing each other over and done with, Marcel glanced over at Cami's apartment window. "I'm not used to seeing you skulking around after women. Has this always been your style or is it a new thing?"

Of course, Klaus didn't rise to that bait and just stared off in the same direction. Cami was now washing dishes barefoot in her kitchen, bobbing her head to music they couldn't hear.

"Why don't you just let her know you're here, Klaus?"

"She will not want to see me."

"What the hell did you do now?"

Klaus shot him an irritated look. "Why must you assume it was something I did? Perhaps this one time, I wasn't the cause?"

Marcel leveled him with a hard gaze. "Right."

The hybrid stared him down, refusing to budge and admit whatever the hell he did to make the human girl take drastic actions of moving out and avoiding him like the plague that he was.

"Anyway, bullshit aside, did you want to hear my findings or not? I've got things to do."

"How crass and impatient you've become over the past century, Marcellus."

"I'm cranky from this whole cloak-and-dagger-crap-operation you foisted off on me." Klaus looked like he was about to say something in response but decided against it, and let Marcel finish what he was about to say.

"So this guy… interesting one. He has a small arsenal of silver bullets and actual bullets. He owns at least ten wooden stakes, basing from what I've seen. The man never leaves the house without carrying weaponry with him. Takes vervain every morning and carries enough wolfsbane to cause enough damage to a wolf pack. I've heard Kieran's name mentioned a bunch of times in his conversation with his parents so he knows exactly how the whole supernatural thing goes."

Klaus smirked. "Well, I'm flattered. I take it he's now more prepared than the last time I paid him him a visit. As he should be."

Marcel ignored him and went on, "He only talks to four people. Five if you count the bartender at the bar near his place. Folks in Ireland, his priest, and as you already know, I'm sure…"

"Camille…" Klaus muttered.

"Yup. First off, he knows you're bad news and has been strongly urging her not to see you, or any of the Mikaelsons for that matter, ever again."

"Shocker."

"Secondly, he's been seeing her a lot. Calling her, texting her as well, I assume, given the countless number of times I heard the tapping on his smartphone… and just in general becoming a very strong presence in her life."

"And does she welcome his… attentions?"

"Hell if I know. You asked me to tail him, not her." Klaus frowned at him, as if displeased with his lack of knowledge of whatever intimacies Cami and her friend had. "What I do know is that they're childhood friends, explaining that connection with Kieran, and he's looked after her and her twin for a long time."

He mulled on that one for a bit before asking Marcel further. "Is he planning to stay?"

"I assume he is here for the long run. In fact, the mayor, who is friends with his parents, has insisted that he attend the gala this coming week."

Klaus' eyebrows raised in question. "What gala?"

"Seriously?"

Marcel got a dirty look in response. "I'm surprised you don't know. The official name is 'Sons and Daughters of New Orleans Gala'. It's a fundraiser for the city that happens every five years. Big event with all the locals who's who, and predictably, the wealthy make huge donations to whichever fundraiser the city's focused on. Although the one this year seems to be more of a campaign for the current mayor to run again, if I'm going by talk of the town."

"_You _have an invite," Klaus stated, an accusing look beginning to form in his eye.

"Of course. It's been here for fifty years now, and I've never missed one."

"Why wasn't I informed of this?"

Marcel nearly rolled his eyes at the arrogant tone. He always bristled at that tone. It was the tone that he and Elijah liked to use when they wanted to remind Marcel who was above, and who was beneath in their little mental hierarchy of vampires. "To be fair, you Mikaelsons just moved here and it isn't exactly my duty to be ticking off lists of parties you should be attending like a goddamn social planner. So don't take it too personally. I'm sure you'll find a way to entertain yourself."

Klaus gave him a peeved expression and opted to turn away from him to face the window once more.

Cami had already finished her chores and was now stretching out the kinks in her body to, Marcel surmised, Klaus Mikaelson's delight. He wanted to call Cami and tell her to close her blinds because there were some sick, thirsty perverts in the building across hers, but he was pretty sure Klaus would somehow find out that it was him. He doubted Klaus missed anything. Very much the same way those eagle-like eyes were now missing nothing as they took in Cami's gracefully toned curves as she stretched, down to the little wisps of hair coming loose from her ponytail.

If Marcel ever had a doubt of how much the human girl meant to his sire, witnessing the way Klaus Mikaelson studied Camille O'Connell had certainly blown it all out of the water. It was pure undiluted longing, and to see it firsthand made him feel as if were intruding on something private.

Which reminded him…

"Oh yeah, almost forgot to tell you," he started, causing Klaus to break his intense gaze and look back at him. "She's going to be at the fundraiser too."

A tiny smile appeared at the corner of Klaus' mouth. "She got an invite from the mayor? What a surprise."

"Oh, she got an invite alright."

The original's smile froze on his face.

"As Niall MacAllister's date."

The smile dropped visibly as Marcel's statement set in, and the pregnant pause that came in between made Marcel's instincts go on alert. He noted the sudden clench of his jaw, the flatlining of the lips, the darkening of his eyes. All signs pointed to the fact that now was a very, very good time to hightail it out of here and head home.

Before Klaus could recover to question him and possibly lash out, Marcel vamp-sped from the rooftop back to his place across the river.

_There is no reason to shoot the messenger, Klaus. No reason at all._

But then again, he thought, as he finally put some distance between the two of them, when did Niklaus Mikaelson ever listen to reason.

…..

Rebekah Mikaelson was not happy with Marcel Gerard. She was not happy with him at all. The bloody oaf hadn't even bothered to show his face for two weeks, and when he finally managed to come by the compound last night, he was asking for Nik! Not her, the supposed love of his life, but Nik! What was she, exactly, chopped liver? Must she beg for his company now, when hundreds of men would kill for her attention?

_Really, Marcel, making a girl work…_

Perhaps she was being a tad dramatic about the situation, considering she and Marcel had an ongoing love affair spanning centuries. What was a mere two weeks after all, compared to such a long and complicated history between the two of them? Really, she wouldn't even be upset if he would just call and ask her to go to that damned gala with him.

Frankly, it's not like she wanted to attend the gala that badly. She just wanted to stop hearing from everybody else in the city how it was going to be a spectacularly lavish event, and why wasn't Rebekah more excited over it, and oh, has she picked her dress yet? She wanted to stop the questions from Marcel's men on whether they were going to match their outfits and how ever did Marcel had ask her to go with him?

All Rebekah could do was smile and pretend that she had been actually asked already, hoping to high heavens that a distracted Marcel would remember to ask her to be his date, preferably not on the day of the gala itself.

In the meantime, it wouldn't really hurt to be trying on dresses at this point, in case Marcel finally came to his senses and remembered that they were supposed to be in a romantic relationship. She had to hand it over to whoever organized these stupid things though. Once in every five years? Sounded like an elaborate ruse to make it seem like an invite to their event was the most desirable thing in history. Of course, nitwits and social climbers of the town were all over it, clamoring to be invited to the event where the wealthy and powerful of New Orleans convened.

Come to think of it, it was a little odd that the Mikaelsons never received an invite. They've thrown a few parties here and there ever since they've moved into town, people should be more than aware of their circle of influence. Hmmm.

Of course, Marcel would undoubtedly have an invite, even if the Mikaelsons didn't. He was considered one of the pillars of the town. Briefly, she wondered if anybody found it strange that Marcel could still attend these things after fifty years and still manage to look the same.

Ah, yes, the power of compulsion. How Rebekah missed it.

Now she stood in front of the mirror, holding up a red silk dress against her body. She couldn't compel random women to try out different dresses for her at once, as she used to do before, so choosing the perfect outfit now required more thought and effort. It was tedious and old-fashioned to do it this way, but it was a small price to pay.

As she threw the dress on her bed and held another against herself, a grating voice suddenly blasted from her doorway.

"Sister dearest, why are you trying your clothes out like a peasant?"

Great. Just what she needed, an interruption. And an annoying one at that.

Rebekah scowled at him through the mirror. "What do you want, Nik?"

"If you ask me nicely, I could, of course, compel a couple of ladies in here to help you out like the good ol' days," he said with a wide smile.

"You can take that offer and stuff yourself with it," she said impatiently, not bothering to face him to continue holding up dress after dress. Pink? Those frills were horrid. Lavender? Nauseating. Green? Oh… oh my, didn't that vibrant green look particularly lovely against her skin?

"Tsk, that's no way to treat a beloved sibling. Why couldn't I just drop by to have a chat, hmm?"

"A chat?" She rolled her eyes so hard she feared doing permanent damage to her optical nerves. Nik never came by "to have a chat." Out of all her siblings, he was probably the least likely to make small talk without motive behind it. Elijah, perhaps, as her other brother liked knowing what everyone was up to. Nik, however... She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Here I was thinking you were offering to do me a favor, when you actually want me to do something for you?"

"On the contrary, Rebekah. I was recently made aware that there is a certain event this week that is coming up. An event that it seems," Nik paused and made a gesture to her bed littered with formal dresses, "you want to badly attend."

He paused and put his finger on his chin. "Although I'm sure Marcellus has already invited you to go, of course, so I may as well throw out this invite addressed to me since I really have no use for it."

Rebekah stared at him. "How did you even get an invite? I thought they mailed those out months ago and none of us were on the list?"

"Well it was easy enough to compel someone to give me an invitation. But I find that I really don't feel like attending anything tomorrow night, anyway. They gave me the invite a little too late, you see, and I find that rather… irritating, don't you? Seems as I'm a mere afterthought when I should be on the VIP list," he said, flippantly waving the cream-colored envelope back and forth.

She narrowed her eyes. Just exactly what was he up to?

"Well, toodles, little sis. It was lovely catching up," he said jovially, turning around and crumpling the pristine envelope with his fist right before her very eyes.

Rebekah made a distressed sound.

He stepped back and innocently asked, "Hmm? Did you say something?"

"I…"

Her brother shot his eyebrows up expectantly. Oh God, did she really have to say it out loud?

"Marcel hasn't actually… invited me yet," she muttered.

An awkward pause ensued before he said anything. "So?"

Goddamnit. This was bloody embarrassing. Did she really have to put herself through this? How badly did she want to attend this silly party anyway? Hadn't she been in enough parties over the centuries? Weren't they all just the same? Besides, what if Marcel asked her?

Nik had a thoughtful expression on his face as he stared at her. "Come to think of it… Marcellus has been pretty busy as of late. I do wonder what is taking up his valuable time. Perhaps he doesn't have time for such frivolous things as attending fundraisers when he has the whole city to run."

Rebekah scowled, not liking that her brother was probably right. "Well, if you've been invited, maybe you can…"

"You mistake me, dear sister. I have no intentions of dressing up for some pretentious event to mingle with these phony dregs of society, nor do I have any intention to part away with an obscene amount of my money to support a corrupt politician's career."

Why was he being so difficult? He obviously knew she wanted to go. He obviously knew she had no invite, and here he was, throwing it in her face that he had a perfectly good invite he was choosing to throw away… Ugh, she really was going to have to spell it out for him.

"Fine, Nik. You're really going to make me say it aren't you, bloody bastard." She took a deep breath. "I'm bored, I want to dress up and go to this ball, I haven't been in civilized company in ages, being just stuck here with you and Elijah for conversation so would you please, please get your head out of your arse and attend this bloody party so you can bloody bring me with you."

His grin was as wide as it could get by the end of her little speech.

"And you only had to say 'please', Rebekah."

"So you'll do it then? Bring me with you?"

"Elijah's gladly agreed to babysit, and I've already RSVP-ed for the two of us hours ago." He smirked. "Although you didn't have to beg in such a pitiful manner. I was going to ask you to come with me anyway. Am I that cruel that I would leave you?"

She gaped at him, realizing he'd been jerking her chain around the whole time. "Bloody, bloody wanker!"

"You're welcome. Oh, and I'd pick the green dress if I were you," he said ingratiatingly, walking out of her room before she could do him bodily harm.

If finding ways to torture her wretch of a brother wasn't enough motivation to do better at witchcraft, then she didn't know what was.

…..

"Morning, Cami."

"Morning, Marie."

"You have a one o'clock with a Mr. Dantes and a two o'clock with a Mrs. Simmons later on," Cami's clinical supervisor, Marie Urquhart, announced as she walked in late that morning to fulfill her required clinical hours. Marie was a sweet old lady that smelled of cookies but still somehow managed to run everything in the clinic like a tight ship. The woman could be talking about her seven grandkids in one moment and then telling Cami she was off by ten cents logging in the payment in their clunky Jurrasic-era computer.

"Mr. Dantes? I don't think I've seen his name before. Is he a new patient?" Cami asked.

Marie nodded, pushing up her spectacles as she read the whole name from the screen. "Edmond Dantes? Booked an appointment last week. I think I tried to place him with one of the more senior counselors but he specifically asked for someone a little bit younger."

"Oh God, I hope he's not one of those pervs…"

"If it helps, the lad sounded like the perfect gentleman. But if you do feel uncomfortable, dear, I can step in as soon as possible instead of just come in mid-session like you've asked me to."

"Thanks for the offer, Marie, but I'll be fine. You've supervised me for what? Two hundred hours now? I told you, you can take it a little easy with me."

"Alright, just checking. I'll stop by earlier to make sure anyway. You know how they are with the policies."

"Of course," Cami smiled. "Anything you need me to do around here before my one o'clock starts?"

"Hmm, I guess the usual. Sorting out the insurance on some of them. It''s that pile right there," she motioned to the stack behind Cami's temporary desk.

"You got it, boss."

"Oh hush, child. I'm no boss and you know it."

It had been approximately two months since Camille O'Connell had quit being a bartender at Rousseau's. There were multiple reasons as to why she'd quit, one of them being that it was the number one place that they would look for her if they wanted to find her. There was that big "if" of course, since she doubted after that last scene she'd had with Klaus, that he'd be in any hurry to be looking for her.

More importantly, she'd also come to a staggering realization on just how much time she'd wasted at the bar. It was always good practice to talk to all kinds of people and observe various social interactions from Rousseau's, but at the end of the day, she really wasn't making any visible progress with what needed to be done to get herself that license.

Distancing herself from the Mikaelsons and their never-ending issues now given her enough time to focus on her required clinical hours. She checked her bank account right after she moved out, and due to the unexpected generosity of a certain Elijah Mikaelson (though to be honest, she didn't really know how he had come to arrive at that sum, perhaps there were miscellaneous compensations for all the injuries she had sustained associating with them), she calculated, if she was extremely careful with her money, she could now afford to drop her bartending gig for a year or two to focus on her career.

"Cami? Cami?"

She blinked, looking up at Marie, who seemed to have been calling out her name for the past minute. "Sorry, Marie, was spacing out there for a second."

"I think your phone's ringing," she said, giving Cami a concerned look.

"Oh!" She got up to retrieve it from her bag, looking at the screen. Niall. "Do you mind if I take this call outside real quick?"

"Go ahead, dear. The work will still be here," she said with a grin.

Cami stepped outside, pulling her jacket up to shield herself from the chill of the wind. The air was certainly crisp by New Orleans standards. She didn't mind. She preferred the cooler weather than having to sweat profusely.

"What's up, Niall?" she said on the phone.

"Just checking on you. We're still good for tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night? Oh, you mean the fundraiser. Of course. I'm excited!"

_Not really._

She didn't exactly relish the fact that she could possibly run into a Mikaelson or two at the most important event of the year for the city. Niall had advised her not to worry, and given that he'd stressed out how necessary it was for him to build connections once more, she'd said yes to accompany him as a show of her support.

"Well, in case you wanted to do some last minute shopping, or whatever it is you women have to do to get ready, just let me know and I can take you."

She gave an overly dramatic sigh for his benefit and said, "Thank you for asking, really, but you know I can take care of myself right?"

There was a pause, and then his begrudging tone. "You're proving to be annoyingly capable, Cami O'Connell."

"If this is you feeling guilty for leaving years ago, don't…"

"It's not guilt." There was a pause over the phone, as if he was thinking on how to phrase his words next. "You've just been left to fend for yourself for some time, I figured you'd welcome the change of someone looking out for you."

She was silent for a while, wondering how to respond. "That… would be nice, yes."

"All I'm saying is, it isn't bad to need someone sometimes. Or have someone do things for you sometimes. You know you can rely on me," he said, his voice as gentle as it could be.

It was times like these that made Cami question where her heart truly wanted to go. Niall's openness and protectiveness made her rethink things she wanted out of her life. She wasn't naive to think that he only wanted to be her friend. No proclamations of love were grandiosely declared, but she knew Niall, and he certainly wouldn't be saying such things on the phone, had he not cared deeply for her.

"I know. I'm still getting used to the thought," she laughed, trying to make things light-hearted between the two of them. She wasn't ready to analyze anything at this point, not while she had to focus on her job. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Since Marie's here already and I need to get back to work."

"Tell her not to be such a slave-driver."

"You and I both know the woman is an angel."

"That she is." She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll pick you up tomorrow night at six?"

"Got it. See you tomorrow!"

She put her phone in her pocket and let out a deep breath.

_You know you can rely on me_, Niall had said. She knew, but she just wasn't ready to accept it. Perhaps because someone else had more or less told her the same things, a million years ago, it seemed.

_You are never alone. Not while I am here._

Someone else had made her the same promise, and here she was, still reeling from a broken heart from believing it.

She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and went back inside to immerse herself with the day's work. No use crying over spilled milk.

…..

Cami stared at him, horror and disbelief in her voice. "You're… Mr. Dantes."

It was now one o'clock, and she'd entered the room for her first session, only to find a very bored-looking Elijah Mikaelson seated in one of the leather chairs in the room, apparently waiting for her arrival.

"Edmond Dantes," she repeated faintly.

"The one and only," he drawled, giving her a smile that bordered on the insolent.

"I should have known. The Count of Montecristo. That's your favorite book or something. I thought something was weird when I heard the name. I should've connected the dots." She put her fingers to her temples and rubbed hard. "Why are you even here?"

She was aware she was rambling a bit, but it was all she could do if she didn't want to break out in hysteria and start throwing things at Elijah to drive him away as if he was all a bad dream. What was she saying earlier to herself about avoiding Mikaelsons? Naturally, she was deluding herself into thinking she could possibly hide from them. They would probably have found her no matter what corner of the earth she'd run to, had they wished to.

"Why do you think I'm here, Camille? I see your tendency to ask nonsensical questions have not abated in the least."

"Elijah, if I knew, I wouldn't ask, would I? So what is it? You're here to torture me? Show off your latest Armani suit? You're bored and I'm an easy target?"

He gave her a frown. "I wanted to see if you were well."

"That's all?"

"What else could there be?" he shrugged.

"When you say it like that, you make me off to be the pettiest person on earth."

"Well. How do you Americans say it? 'If the shoe fits.'" He gave her a satisfied smile and then stood up to look around. "So, this is your new work environment. Quite an improvement from that god-awful bar."

"Hey! You liked hanging out in that god-awful bar!"

"Did I?"

"Yes, and what… could you stop walking around and touching things in this office? You're supposed to just sit still and vent out your worries instead of inspecting every little knick-knack you can find on the table."

He dropped the glass figurine he was playing with and gave her a knowing look. "As I was saying, pettiness _is_ one of your character traits."

"Yeah? Well, weirdness is yours," she shot back, and then immediately cringed. She sounded like a child, even to her ears. She certainly was not expecting to be meeting Elijah so soon. Had she known she would have attempted to at least mentally prepare herself. She took a deep breath and prayed for patience.

"I meant to say…_ generousness_… is yours. Thank you for that paycheck you deposited into my account."

"It was a little late considering the hours you've spent with us, and I must apologize for that. You deserved every cent of it and more."

"Thank you, I needed it. I could finally…"

Before she could say anything further, Marie entered the room and sat on one of the chairs behind her. With this little surprise from Elijah, it had completely slipped her mind that Marie was going to come in and supervise her session.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Dantes, Ms. O'Connell is still doing the required hours to get her license. As part of the program, I am here to supervise all her interactions. My name is Marie Urquhart, and anything you say here will, of course, be kept confidential. If at any moment you feel uncomfortable with my presence, feel free to let me or Ms. O'Connell know."

Elijah nodded graciously at Marie, while Cami remained frozen, unsure how to proceed with a spectator around.

Elijah gave her stiff countenance an amused smile and smooth as silk said, "You were saying you wanted me to lie on the chaise, Camille?"

"Uhhh, yes, if that is the position would be most comfortable to you, Elij…" she coughed to cover her mistake, "Edmond."

Elijah moved, meticulously unbuttoning his suit to take off the jacket. He put his feet up and crossed them, hands clasped against his chest, looking relaxed and all too pleased with the way things were turning out.

"Now tell me, uh, Edmond, was there something specific on your mind that brought you here?" she prodded, mentally cursing Elijah for putting her in such an awkward situation. _God, please let the hour pass by quickly. Please let the hour pass by quickly..._

He started speaking. "Family, as you know, is the most important… most cherished aspect of my life. Every move I make is due to careful consideration of what would be the best for my family."

Cami shot Marie a tentative look, hoping that the older woman didn't suspect anything strange with Elijah's speech. She turned back to Elijah. "Isn't that good though? Valuing your family is good."

"Perhaps. At times it is a large burden. At times it leads me to make decisions that is unpopular but ultimately beneficial to my family's sake."

"Unpopular, how?" she asked, genuinely curious as to where this was going. How unlike Elijah to suddenly be so open with a stranger around. But then… this could all be a ruse. Just like his stupid made-up name. _Edmond Dantes, indeed!_ She nearly snorted while thinking about it.

"Take my brother for example. Charming chap, but he has his faults. He is selfish, secretive, paranoid…"

Alright, maybe this wasn't a ruse. That definitely sounded like Klaus.

"What does this have to do with _you_, though?" she asked pointedly. From behind her, she could hear Marie rustling, as if disapproving of her callous interruption.

"It has everything to do with me, because unfailingly, it is I that would have to deal with the aftermath of his actions. Especially with the most recent one. You see, it seems as if he was enamored with a certain woman. I had all the hopes that she could somehow change him. That her inner goodness and unselfishness could somehow redeem him."

He couldn't possibly be referring to her, could he?

Cami started to sweat. "And you saw that she wouldn't be able to do that."

"Perhaps. I cannot see the future. He obviously listens to her a certain degree, and I had begun to hope. However, when I saw that he still had the same old tendencies to put himself, to put his feelings first before hers, I began to lose that belief. In some ways, wanting her has only made him more volatile. There are times I think that he has changed of course, but he reverts back to his selfish nature, a nature that cannot grasp how to be considerate of others. I felt sorry for this woman. She was very much a vibrant being, and the steps that I took were only to save them from ruining each other."

"What did you do, Elijah?" she asked, unable to keep the emotion from her voice, beyond caring that she'd called him now by his actual name.

"I told him he cannot be with her, repeatedly. And though he isn't aware of it, there are times my words surprisingly have such a great influence on my brother, that he eventually ended up believing me."

She tried to clear her head. Tried to reason out what she was going to ask next with all these revelations thrown in her lap. "Are you saying your brother wanted to be with this woman?"

"I do not know. Only he can tell how he really feels. I can only deduce from the things that I witness."

Cami shook her head. "I think you're overestimating the effect of your words on him. From what I… can gather, your brother had already made up his own mind, even without your intervention. If he truly wanted things to work out, he would have found a way, wouldn't he?"

"You give him too much credit. He is well aware that he is putting her life in danger, should they ever be together. He has too many enemies that will want to harm him, that will want to use her to harm him. Should he ever be in a situation where he has to choose between saving his daughter or saving this woman, well, I do not care to picture the outcome."

She swallowed, finding it difficult to listen to Elijah's words. However, everything he said was true, that a possibility of a relationship with Klaus was doomed, even before it started. Painful, but true.

Elijah went on. "I only came here to admit that I am not entirely innocent in discouraging this relationship. But I want it clear that I did it for both their sakes, and I am hoping that this woman can find it in her heart to forgive me."

Her mouth went dry as he stopped looking ahead and turned his head to look at her directly. His eyes dropped to her hands, which she'd just now realized were clasped together so tightly, the knuckles had turned white.

"Well, you obviously have thought about your brother's and my… her feelings and well-being a lot. I can't fault you for that. I'm sure, given enough time, she eventually will understand. Time has a way of healing all things," she finished lamely.

He smiled and turned back around, settling comfortably once more on the couch. "A little cliche, Ms. O'Connell, but I can accept that for now."

She couldn't help but give a tiny smile at the unexpected sincerity, and then she suddenly remembered that it wasn't just the two of them in the room. She wondered what in the world Marie was thinking of her style of talking to patients. Trying to rack her brain for what a normal therapist would say to a patient next, she prodded Elijah, "Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Mr. Dantes? What about yourself? Is there anything else that is bothering you?"

Despite having his back to her, she could almost see Elijah's smirk at her psych spiel, and she could feel the waves of amusement emanating from him.

_Lord, only forty minutes to go until this awkwardness is over._

Much later, after the whole ordeal was over and done with, Marie commented on her over-familiarity with the patient, her needless and constant interruptions, and her inconsistent usage of his name. "Oh dear, the first step to having a patient trust you is to get their names right," Marie had said, shaking her head as she wrote notes on Cami's file.

Cami had been miserable after that, which caused Marie to pat her on the back and softly say, "Not to worry, my dear, not everybody can keep calm when their patients are that good-looking. But one thing we must always remember is to just be as professional as we can. Unfortunately, Cami, it may be in our best interests for me to go back to supervising you full time in all your sessions from here on out."

She did her best to give Marie a weak smile, even as she fumed inside. Be more professional? This was all Elijah's fault. Why couldn't he just meet her at a coffee shop or some random street like a normal person?! Trust a Mikaelson to have the worst timing in history and make her come out looking really bad.

What was that he said?

_I am hoping that this woman can find it in her heart to forgive me._

After that humiliating review? After all her hard work to build herself up in Marie's esteem for months, only to be swiftly toppled in one moment just because he decided that it was convenient to play pretend in Cami's workplace?

_Like hell, Elijah._

….

Rebekah Mikaelson stepped out of the town car and onto the walkway, careful not to trip over the folds of her green Elie Saab gown. She'd opted for the evening dress with its daring V-neckline and organza flower appliques dotting the butterfly-shaped lace bodice, loving the sensation of the numerous layers of emerald green fabric lightly flowing from her belted waist to her feet as she walked.

"Well now, don't you look lovely. Proof that you should listen to your brother more," Nik commented as he held out his arm to escort her inside the venue.

"You know what, Nik? That makes your record of doling out good advice one in a thousand."

"One in a thousand?" he scoffed. "Bollocks."

They walked through the red carpet and through the lobby of the building, several ushers directing them to the ballroom after their names and coats were checked.

Nik leaned towards her and whispered conspiringly, "So tell me, has the amorous Marcel Gerard finally remembered to give you a call?"

"Eventually. I told him it was too late, of course. He's miffed at you for stealing me as a date. In fact, he was so upset that he accidentally gave away the entire reason why you were so eager to come to this gala in the first place."

Nik stopped walking and stared at her.

"And you only had to say 'please'," she quoted, grinning widely at the stunned expression on his face. Sometimes her brother made it all too easy. "Move along, Nik, move along! You're holding up the line behind you."

The red carpet eventually led to an area where the lights were dimmed for ambience. As she entered the ballroom, she couldn't help but look high above, to the massive glowing chandeliers that hung from cathedral-like ceilings. What took away Rebekah's breath was the large gilded pillars situated through either sides of the room. The pillars glinted, their reflections on the polished wooden floor brightening up an already spectacularly-lit room. A balcony surrounding the ballroom ran throughout the perimeter, a lovely place to watch guests as they came in through the wide entrance below. She could already see a throng of people had gone upstairs to mingle while subtly peering downstairs. There was already quite a crush of guests present in their tuxedos and designer evening gowns, champagne in one hand and hors d'oeuvres in another. The sound of violins and tinkling laughter wafted through the air, as the gentlemen sized the each other up, and the ladies coveted what other ladies were wearing, whispering to each other what expensive jewelry was being blatantly shown off.

"The preening of peacocks never change," Nik commented beside her.

Before she could respond, her brother had already left her side and was already making a beeline for a server holding a tray of drinks. She lost sight of him after a minute due to the crowd.

She figured she might as well go to the balcony area with a drink or two. After all, what good were parties if she couldn't avail herself of the free-flowing alcohol and enjoy laughing at stupid people from afar? She kept an eye out for Marcel as she made her way upstairs, smoothly grabbing a glass of champagne when a harried-looking server passed by.

Some minutes later, as she was enjoying seeing the little bits of drama unfolding downstairs, a familiar voice whispered behind her ear. "You look absolutely divine in that dress."

She whirled and found Marcel, eyeing her like she was food on a platter. She grinned and gave him a kiss. "I was dressing to impress someone, of course."

"Where's your date?"

"Which date?" she asked, coyly touching his chest.

"The ugly one," Marcel said in a deadpan tone. They both laughed and then Rebekah straightened from his embrace.

"Speaking of which, I haven't seen him in a while. Have you seen him at all? We did come together," she said, a little worried that not for the first time, Nik was going to get himself into something stupid.

After minutes of looking around, Marcel finally spotted him standing near one of the pillars, already downing a glass of scotch, a trademark scowl in place. Rebekah saw him momentarily freeze and get an odd expression on his face as he spotted something near the entrance of the ballroom. She and Marcel both followed his gaze.

"Oh," came out Rebekah's soft gasp.

It was the human girl, Camille O'Connell.

Cami, in a beautifully beaded midnight blue gown, its mermaid cut hugging her shapely hips and flaring magnificently down to her feet, the sweetheart neckline revealing creamy skin. Her gown had produced the desired effect of a starry night, its multiple silver beads dotting the bodice and tapering down until there were barely any beads on her waist. She wore no other jewelry save for big sapphire teardrops, and her hair was swept up in a simple up-do. It was understated and elegant, but the way she had filled out her gown and radiated confidence seemed to render everybody speechless.

It seemed as if the buzz of the whole room had stopped, and all eyes were on the blonde girl and the man beside her whose arm she was holding as she walked gracefully towards the center of the room. Niall MacAllister, looking impressive in his well-cut black tuxedo, like everyone else alongside him, could not take his eyes off her.

_Oh God. Nik._

Rebekah nodded to Marcel and headed downstairs to where Nik was, clutching at the long folds of her gown to avoid stumbling along the way. She finally reached him. He hadn't moved from his position and was still staring at the pair who had suddenly become the talk of the whole party. His grip had unconsciously tightened on his glass as he heard someone remark on what a beautiful couple they made, and Rebekah reached to hold his arm.

"Nik," she muttered in a low warning, noting the cracks on the glass. "Put that down before you make a scene."

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and stared at her.

"The glass?" she motioned to his hand. Another irritated look from him, as if he was wondering why on earth his sister was randomly prattling about glassware on such occasions. She wrenched it out of his hand before he could protest.

They both watched as Niall and Cami made their rounds all over the ballroom, looking very much like high society's 'it' couple. Noted the proprietary way Niall's large hand had settled on her waist to lead her. Witnessed as Cami laughed at a joke Niall told their current party.

Rebekah gave Nik a sideways glance, gripping his arm as if the act of holding could restrain the large aura of resentment coming from him.

"You were the one who ran away from her, you know," Rebekah said in a low voice. "You shouldn't be getting upset. I thought you wanted to stay away."

His response was curt. "I did."

"Then don't throw a fit when somebody else strives to make her happy. Did you know that every night you didn't come home at that time meant another night I could hear her crying softly in her room?"

Nik stared at her for a while before tersely saying, "I was unaware that I've put her in such misery..."

Rebekah shook her head in exasperation. "What a fool you are, brother. She would have gone to the ends of the earth for you, had you but asked. Everyone could see her feelings, but all you could do was run away like a bloody coward. I thought it would have worked out between the two of you, but gods, you are selfish, Nik. It's probably better that she's moved on to Niall, because the girl deserves some happiness in her short life. I told you didn't I, that it…"

Rebekah stopped her angry tirade, noticing the expression on Nik's face, as something had suddenly clicked somewhere in that convoluted brain of his.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed that he was starting to move towards the center of the room. "Where are you going?" she said in indignation. "Nik?"

He turned back to her, a steely look in his eye.

"Nik, don't," she warned softly. "You will not be welc-"

"You've just revealed to me that all I've done is make her cry. Wretched monster that I am," he said, his lips flattening into a grim line, voice heavily laced with frustration. "And out there, someone else is making her laugh."

As if on cue, Cami's laugh could be heard, and they both turned to see Niall whisper something in her ear.

Nik turned back to Rebekah, saying quietly, "If there is anyone that should be making her bloody laugh, it should be me. If there is anyone that should be giving her bloody happiness, it should be me. She is mine, Rebekah. Mine alone."

He turned his feet and walked away, giving Rebekah a sinking feeling that things were about to get much worse for everyone before they got better.

…..

Cami found herself thinking that Niall looked really good tonight. She caught herself staring at him as he greeted a couple of distinguished-looking gentlemen, his well-fitting tuxedo making him stand out even amongst a sea of men in the most expensive formal-wear.

Not that she didn't know always know that he was a good looking man. Tonight just seemed different as it was the first time she'd entertained the notion of being attracted to this man.

He'd stood outside her door ringing her bell, waiting for her to open it. As she did, he'd given her that warm appreciative male gaze at her whole ensemble, making her think that she made the right decision to put effort in her appearance. He'd lifted her hand to give her a feather-light kiss on her skin, making her feel warm, even as the cold wind from the outside seeped inside her apartment. And from that point on, Cami seemed to feel as if she had somehow got transported into a Bond film.

And then there was Mr. Bond himself, a.k.a. Niall, who was definitely using every opportunity to physically touch her. Grasping her wrist to lead her through the crowd, fleeting touches to her arm, a hand on her waist, whispers that grazed his lips against her ear…

To say that she was not even remotely physically aware of this very attractive man was to downright lie, and it was fast becoming difficult to ignore that there could be a possible attraction on her end as well.

_It is better that your friend has come back to town… for he is more able to provide you with whatever it is that you need._

She tried to keep a smile on her face as she suddenly remembered Klaus' parting words that night.

The night that he'd kissed her, and then pushed her away. He'd suggested she go to Niall, and as a final slap to her face, he'd left that night, never to be seen or heard from again. Her heart and ego were badly bruised, and she hadn't meant for it to happen, but to have Niall suddenly come in had helped her recover a bit of her bearings. She knew, however, it wasn't good to use her friend like that, even as he'd begged for her to rely on him. But…

But it crossed her mind daily, would it be such a bad idea to reciprocate his affections, even if she wasn't completely ready?

_You aren't being fair, Cami. You should tell him the truth… And then you can both figure it out from there._

She sighed deeply, which caused the man beside her to look at her in concern. "Did you want some fresh air?" Niall asked. "It's getting a little stuffy in here, isn't it?"

"Isn't his speech about to start?" she asked, referring to the mayor, who was visibly getting hounded by a group of businessmen.

"I assume it isn't for a while. Everyone looks like they're still finishing their hors d'oeuvres."

"Then yes, fresh air sounds great just about now." She looked up at him apologetically. "Have I told you I hate mingling?"

He gave her a roguish grin. "Hey, whatever the lady wants. I'll grab your coat and we can head outside for a bit. Maybe after we come in, the boring bits will be done."

She watched his back as he left, and walked over to a quiet area to wait for him, behind one of the pillars where it seemed no one had claimed as a spot. She thought about what she was going to tell Niall when they were outside.

If he chose to wait until she was ready for a relationship, that would be entirely up to him. But the last thing she wanted to do was to lead somebody on and make them hope on things she wasn't even sure about. At this point, she just wanted to finish her clinic hours. She just wanted to get her license. If Niall still chose to be her friend after this, without further expectation from her, then she would gladly know that this friendship was real, and she would be as good a friend to him as he was to her.

After some minutes, she sensed a presence behind her as she was wool-gathering, and thinking it was Niall, she spoke before turning. "I wanted to tell you something…"

She stopped, her stomach dropping as she finally got a glimpse of him.

Niklaus Mikaelson stood before her, devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo, his crisp white shirt a stark contrast in the dark shadows of where she'd chosen to wait for Niall's return.

"Hello, Camille."

….


End file.
